Repercussions
by insanityfairy
Summary: Jareth becomes trapped in the "real world" and faces the very real consequences of his actions. THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER vol. 3 OF RETURN TO THE LABYRINTH! Rated T for two incidences of swearing. Also contains a lot of grown-up drama dialogue.
1. Deus ex machina?

Sarah gasped at a sudden sensation of being water that something big and heavy had just fallen into. Stunned and dizzied, she forgot where she was, and what was going on around her. The strange liquid feeling morphed, and now she was a trickle of water that a torrent was now flowing on top of. She fought not to drown, then realized she was the water, and the thoughts she feared would inundate her were a part of her as well.

"-you have to be all right," Jareth begged. Sarah became aware of him supporting her, begging her to cling to life. "You've lived all these years without the ablation; its death surely cannot affect you."

All the new thoughts and feelings mixed together with what was there already, and Sarah remembered everything. Thirteen years of living as two separate beings merged together into one. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until she gasped, as if she had surfaced after being underwater far too long.

"That's it! Fight it; you're strong enough-" Sarah backhanded Jareth with more strength than she thought she possessed. He gaped at her in disbelief. She had knocked him down, and a trickle of blood soon emerged from the corner of his mouth. Her emotions had swollen from a puddle into a lake, which was now storming with anger and outrage. And yet, she was finally whole. She began to laugh.

Jareth stared at her in horror. She must have looked like a madwoman. She had two very different sets of memories for the past thirteen years, neither of them happy. And Jareth was to blame for them all. Sarah took deep breaths. Her two halves were still getting used to each other and they couldn't decide on what they wanted to do next. Tears of elation at being whole for the first time since becoming an adult were at war with a violent, vengeful rage.

Meanwhile, the rain began to pour, making Jareth's hair and clothes cling to his body. He suddenly seemed much smaller. He wiped at the corner of his mouth, and paled at the sight of the red smeared on his hand. "I'm bleeding…but, that's not possible, unless-"

"-Unless you have become a part of this world again," a new, familiar voice interjected. Sarah turned to see a woman approaching them casually, holding a large, black umbrella to shield herself against the rain. It was Jennifer MacLellan; she was an old schoolmate whose family had helped found the city over two hundred years ago. She was now the grade school guidance counsellor and Toby had been quite fond of her in his elementary days. But, she had once been something more. A much closer relationship with this woman surfaced in the storm of Sarah's mind.

"Jennie!" Sarah realized, recognizing her old friend. Sarah ran over and hugged her. "Oh, Jennie, I'm sorry; how could I have just left you behind?"

"His handiwork, I expect," Jennie explained. Sarah suddenly remembered playing with Jennie: Jennie was instructing Sarah on how to Goblin-proof her room. Together, the two of them constructed what was (in hindsight) a truly diabolical booby-trap; it would spray any small, sneaking creature with perfume, and then cover them with cute, girly stickers (a fate no goblin would wish on anyone).

"You know; you know everything, but how?" Sarah asked.

"The doorways to realms which border this reality are closely monitored, to ensure strict rules are obeyed. My family has kept watch over these doorways since time immemorial. I grew up knowing about the Labyrinth, and about him. He's an especially troublesome traveller from an especially troublesome realm."

"But how could he do everything he's done if you're supposed to watch him?" Sarah felt a bit hurt.

"My father, as you know, is devout Christian; something I've never understood. He has been the Gatekeeper for more than thirty hears, and he believed that if we showed the residents of the Labyrinth forgiveness and compassion, that they would become better beings. He turned the other cheek whenever Jareth bent the rules and didn't keep a very strict eye on his dealings." Jennie regarded Jareth sternly, "a woeful lapse in duty which I have now corrected."

"Your father understands that other realms have other ways of doing things. He _respected_ those differences."

"I will _respect _those differences only insofar as you _respect _the laws of this land." Jennie retorted firmly. "Particulalry those that relate to stalking, luring and the abduction of a minor!"

Jareth tried to do something, but whatever it was didn't happen, and this alarmed him.

"You know full well that the use of magic is strictly forbidden in the World of Balance. I have stripped you of all your powers, and nullified every remaining spell you have cast in this world." Jennie was standing above Jareth, just far enough away that he wasn't sheltered at all by her umbrella.

Jareth's eyes widened in horror, "Do you have any idea of the havoc that will cause??"

"Better than you, I expect. But as painful as it will be, I firmly believe it is necessary: nothing can be set right while people are bewitched and befuddled. Wounds will heal and people will finally be able to live their lives as they were intended; _remembering_ their loved ones!"

Sarah gasped. "TOBY!!" she screamed.

"Well, golly; that sure sounded like a summons to me," Jennie mentioned casually. She snapped her fingers and a door appeared instantly. Jennie opened it to reveal a very aggrieved Toby, dressed alarmingly like Jareth.

Toby ran into Sarah's outstretched arms. "What did he do to you??!" Sarah's face changed from anxious concern to murderous rage as her eyes flicked between Toby and Jareth.

"Moppet," he said, his own troubles far from his mind as the reality of what he had done sank in.

"It's okay, Toby, I'm fine," Sarah reassured him before she knew what she was doing, "I'm better than I've been in thirteen years."

Everyone's attention returned to Jennie as she slammed the newly-appeared door shut. It disappeared the second it was completely closed. Toby moaned and doubled over.

"Jen, I feel awful," he looked up at her with absolute trust.

"It's just the magic leaving your body, Toby," she reassured him, "it'll take a little time to get used to, but you should be back to normal in a day or so."

"You CAN'T!!" Jareth interjected, "He's the Pathmaker now! The Labyrinth will go wild without a master! And if even the slightest hint of it remains with a mortal, it will-"

"Wither and die, just like its keeper. I know. But Toby isn't even an adult yet; the Labyrinth's fate can be decided once he's old enough to make that decision. In the meantime, it will remain dormant; connected to Toby by the thinnest of threads. Just don't get run over by a bus," she instructed him wryly. Toby grinned.

"And you would just leave my kingdom like that, adrift: prey to all its enemies? Is that the duty of the Gatekeeper?"

"Two hundred and sixty-eight years ago, a new realm was discovered here; the realm of the Goblins. Its inhabitants plagued the early settlers with unimaginable misfortune. It took my family more than a generation to produce a Gatekeeper and gather what was necessary to come here and guard the new Door. With the Gatekeeper here to enforce the Laws, the Goblins were once again constrained to their usual mischief, and the settlement quickly flourished. For two centuries, my family has seen to the well-being of this city. _That_, is my duty, Jareth; the people on _this _side of the Door. Seeing to your kingdom even to the extent I have borders on overstepping my authority. As far as I'm concerned, all the humans are in this world, everything else is on the other side of the door, and I've done a good day's work."

"Jareth isn't human," Sarah interjected.

"Ohhhhh yes he is," Jennie countered smugly, "His foray in to the Goblin Kingdom may have given him great power and stopped him from ageing, but he's still as human as he ever was. It's only a matter before he starts getting wrinkles and..." she leaned in as if to whisper to him discretely, while still being loud enough for everyone to hear, "male pattern baldness! But frankly, that's all going to take a back seat to the veritable shitstorm of consequences you're sailing into."

"Consequences," Jareth practically spat the word out.

"The Williamses are by this time, I expect, quite anxious to know where their only son has been for the past several weeks. Since you were technically unknown to him until the day before he disappeared, I expect the local police will have questions for you. And once they see these," Jennie handed Sarah some photo prints, "well, I expect the tone of their questions are going to take a much more serious note."

Sarah looked down at the photos Jennie had passed her; they showed Jareth speaking to Sarah in Toby's bedroom the night he had been taken all those years ago. The detail on the shots was good enough that the two figures and the background were all easily recognizable. Jennie had been the paper photographer in high school, and some of the shots she'd taken rivalled the paparazzi in candidness, if not the celebrity of her subjects. She had put her talents to good use.

"I knew he was following you," Jennie explained apologetically, "I tried to warn you, but you just dismissed me as being the 'weird girl.' I thought if I showed dad what Jareth had been up to, that he might finally take his duties more seriously. So I watched and waited. But you fought Jareth off. He was more…subdued after that."

"'Cept for me," Toby interjected bitterly.

"How many times did I warn you against making wishes, Toby?" Jennie asked patiently.

"Not enough, I guess," he admitted.

"Sarah would have given you warnings that stuck, I imagine, if Jareth hadn't taken her memories," Jennie shook her head sadly. Just then, police lights could be seen flashing. Jareth tried to bolt, but Jennie caught him the second he stood up.

A police officer got out of the passenger side of the car. When he saw Jennie, he tipped his hat respectfully. He turned to Toby. "Toby Williams?" the officer asked.

Jennie crossed her arms and looked at the officer coldly. "I reported him missing weeks ago."

"We just got a call from Mr. & Mrs. Williams to that effect. I'm very sorry we didn't act sooner, but when we first contacted the Williamses regarding your report, they seemed unconcerned."

Jennie seemed to relent, but she still gave the policeman a dirty look. "You can talk to this gentleman," she shoved Jareth forward, "about Toby's whereabouts during his absence. I'll make a statement, and Sarah can take Toby home."

The policeman nodded. "All right, but I want statements from the both of you tomorrow morning, first thing." He came forward to collect Jareth. Jareth tried to run again, so the officer tackled him. "You are under arrest on suspicion of abduction, and for resisting arrest..." the officer then read Jareth his rights as he handcuffed him and led him back to the cruiser. Jareth shot Jennie a withering look before ducking into the car.

Jennie waved as the car drove off. She had ushered Sarah and Toby underneath her umbrella, so they could watch the whole fiasco in relative comfort. "Being such a respected member of the community does have its perks," she said to no one in particular. There was no mistaking the smugness in her tone.

"What's going to happen to him?" Sarah asked.

"Not sure, wanna start a pool? I'm thinking even odds for jail time, funny farm or deportation."

Sarah bit her lip. "I know Jareth has done some messed up stuff, but do you really think he deserves that? I can't help feeling sorry for him."

Jennie snorted derisively. "Knowing what you do about him, what do you suppose the likelihood is that we're playing right into his hand?"

"She's got a point, Sarah," Toby offered, "Jareth can take care of himself."

"What do you suppose he'll tell them?" Sarah wondered out loud.

"To be honest, I don't really care. But I suggest we go with something in the "cult" family for our story. If we're all consistent, it will speak more strongly."Jennie escorted them both to Sarah's car, still sheltering them with the umbrella. They sat inside and worked out a plausible story based off of what Toby told them about what had happened to him in the Labirynth. Jennie, not surprisingly, was quite skilled at coming up with 'real-world' explanations of what had happened in the Goblin Kingdom. It was probably an important part of her duties. "Now go home you two," Jennie instructed them kindly once they had gotten the story straight, "Jareth may as well spend the night in lockup – he doesn't have anywhere else to go, and you can be damn sure the boys in blue will keep him out of trouble. Dry off, get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning."


	2. Nice Mr Policeman and his friends

Sarah got to the police station promptly the next morning. It wasn't hard; she'd given up sleeping at dawn. Even with a stiff drink to help her calm down, she kept waking up in a cold sweat from some horrible nightmare. Jareth was always in them, committing nameless horrors.

She had left Toby at home the previous night, armed with their story to answer Robert and Irene's questions. She had corroborated what she could, but her father had asked lots of questions Jennie hadn't anticipated, which Sarah and Toby had to dodge. She hoped she wouldn't get any more of those from the police.

She was ushered into one of the sterile rooms used for interrogations and interviews. "First things first," the detective began, "can you identify this person?" he presented her with Jareth's mug shots, taken the night before.

He looked like a drowned rat in them. It was amazing how awful people always looked in those photos. Even so, he glared out from the forward-facing shot so defiantly that Sarah had to look away. "Yes, that's Jareth Quinn," she confirmed.

The detective took the photo away. "Ms. Williams, has this individual ever threatened you?"

Sarah got a very unpleasant sensation at the bottom of her stomach. She recited what she and Jennie had gone over, "not directly; but he's very manipulative. He's tried to get involved with me several times. I'm pretty sure he's stalked me; he knows where I live, things like that. Until recently I wasn't aware of anything criminal, though."

The detective took some notes, then turned to a tv screen. "Please tell me what you see here," he turned the tv on and played what looked like CCTV footage.

"Looks like Jareth walking down a school hallway," Sarah surmised by the lockers at the edge of the screen, "looking like a much more toned-down version of an eighties rock star."

The detective nodded. "It was taken at Henry A. Wallace Secondary School on May 8th, the day your brother disappeared. Do you know of any other time the accused may have been in contact with the victim?"

Now came the hardest part. Sarah had been struggling to decide whether to tell anyone about what had happened thirteen years ago. She remembered what Jennie had said: Jareth had to answer for what he had done. She took a deep breath. "Jareth has known Toby since he was a baby," she told the detective, producing the incriminating photos. "I thought that was just an isolated incident, but I realize now he's been watching Toby the entire time. Toby told me last night that Jareth has gotten him into trouble for things Jareth has done several times over the years. We think he may have been trying to make Toby look like a delinquent, so that he wouldn't be missed if he disappeared."

The detective looked at the photos, and his face became an unreadable mask. "Ms. Williams, how old are you in this picture?"

"Fifteen," she answered neutrally.

"It looks like you're arguing; I'm going to need a little context for this photo," the detective instructed her.

"For a long time, I thought what happened was a dream, or the product of my overactive imagination. You see, I was babysitting Toby while my dad and stepmom were out for the night. Toby went missing, vanished right out of his crib, and Jareth stepped forward, claiming he had my half-brother. I didn't let him into the house, if that's what you're thinking. I don't know how he got in. Jareth challenged me to –a game, I guess, a really weird one. He's got sort of a cult, and his followers consider him their king. They all live in this weird enclave. He challenged me to get to the centre of the enclave within a set time limit. I did, so I got Toby back. And like I said, the whole thing was so weird; I thought it didn't actually happen."

"Could you tell us where this enclave is?"

Sarah shook her head. "Jareth took me there, and I have no idea how we got there. Afterwards, I woke up in my room, and Toby was in his crib, as if nothing happened."

"Ms. Williams, are you familiar with the Legend of the Goblin King?"

Sarah paled; she wasn't expecting that. She cleared her throat. "There's a play based off of it; he would steal unwanted children, and turn them into goblins." Sarah looked down and began fiddling with her hands.

The detective looked her in the eye. "Ms. Williams, I need you to tell me everything you know about Jareth Quinn."

* * *

After two hours of grilling, Sarah was on the brink of exhaustion. She was pretty sure the detective knew she was being evasive, and all she could give him were half-truths and near-answers. "Detective, if I'm under suspicion of something, I have the right to know I'm under investigation, and what for. I'm not answering any more questions until you tell me what you really want to find out."

The detective looked a bit chastened at that. "Ms. MacLellan has already alleged to the incident thirteen years ago. She stated she took the photographs. She also said the accused held some sway with her father, and was able to keep things quiet. Do you know anything about that?"

"Only what Jennie has told me; she's been worried about Jareth's activities for a long time, but was only able to act against him recently."

"Ms. MacLellan gained control of her trust fund when her father fell ill, which happened last week, as you probably know."

Sarah nodded. Gavin MacLellan was a major local figure, and his sudden stroke had been all over the papers. She had toyed with the idea of sending Jennie a card or something when she read about it, but they had drifted apart so long ago that Sarah decided it wasn't appropriate. Now she realized what a difficult time Jennie was going though, and was determined to return the support Jennie had given her.

"Whatever sway Mr. Quinn held over Ms. MacLellan obviously expired when Mr. MacLellan became an invalid, and _she_ gained financial independence. As respected a member of the community as she is, we still have to consider the possibility this all might be vengeance on her part; the timing is too questionable to ignore. That, combined with the fact that your story corroborates seamlessly with Ms. MacLellan's, leads us to believe she may have planned all this."

That stung. But when it came to a question of who Sarah trusted more, there was no contest. "Jareth has done everything he's accused of. I will testify to that effect, under oath, in court. Jennie's the only one with enough spine to stand up to him, and for that she deserves respect, not suspicion," Sarah retorted harshly. "And the fact that you think she could twist her father's illness to take revenge against someone sickens me!" She pounded her fist on the table.

The detective finally relented. "Very well, Ms. Williams; that will do for now. We'll call you if we have any further questions."

Sarah sighed in relief as she was escorted out of the interview room. In the hallway, she passed the scariest people she'd ever seen. They looked like modern-day pirates who beat up biker gangs and mercenaries for exercise. The detective raised an eyebrow at them.

"Snake? Don't tell me you're here for the John Doe?" the detective asked.

"Special order," the leader, Snake, answered. Snake looked like he could take down Ludo with one swing, along with every other goblin in the Kingdom. "Hear he's a real piece of work."

The detective shook his head. "Small-time con-artist turned copycat nutjob; he won't be going Waco on anybody."

"What's the bail set at?" Snake asked in what was a strangely professional tone for a guy who looked like he should be behind bars at a Super-Maximum-Security prison.

"Bail hearing's not 'til this afternoon. For some reason, he's last on the list. He'll be in holding for another night if the hearings drag on today."

"I'll be there." Snake nodded to Sarah in greeting and went on his way.

"Who the hell were they, and what the hell are the police doing associating with them?!" Sarah hissed when she was positive Snake and his sketchy crew were well out of earshot.

"I guess you don't know about bounty hunters, then?"

"Sure, in the Wild West. I thought "Wanted" posters went out with steam trains!"

"You know they haven't; think of America's Most Wanted. But that's hardly steady income, so most bounty hunters these days work for bail bonding companies," he explained.

"Bail bonding?"

"Yeah, it's too expensive to keep everyone who's charged locked up until their court date, not to mention kind of unfair to people who are innocent. But not everybody can afford their bail, or knows someone who can, so bail bonding companies will put the money forward. If the accused shows up for their court date with no trouble, we give the money back with interest. If not, the company can either recover the bail jumper, or loses the money.

That's where the bounty hunters come in. Mostly they track down small-time low lifes; petty thieves, street-dealers, stuff like that. Those guys aren't very dangerous and usually don't go far. But some companies specialize in bigger bonds. Snake's the bounty hunter side of the biggest company in the tri-state area, and probably the best bounty hunter in the country. He's taken down some really scary guys in his time. Rumour has it lots of mob families have put contracts out on him; a lot of known hit men tend to end up dead when he's around. Three guesses who put him on your guy's scent," the detective finished irritably.

"He's here for Jareth? I thought you said he was here for a John Doe!"

"Guy's got no ID, no priors, no matches on prints, dental or even DNA. No tags on his clothes; it's like that creep from the movies, 'cept instead of having nothing but knives in his pockets, he's got a bunch of weird plants and stuff that we can't identify. We're waiting to hear back from the FBI, Interpol and Scotland Yard, but I'm guessing they got nothing, either. Since we can't find any record of him, we call him a John Doe, and assume Jareth Quinn is an alias. Doesn't help that the name is out of an old legend."

While all that was informative, there was only one part of it that mattered to Sarah. "Are you telling me he's getting out of jail??!"

"Most likely not 'til tomorrow, but don't worry; Snake and his gang'll keep him in line."

Sarah sighed. She just wanted to get as far away from Jareth as possible, and forget this whole ordeal. For now, she could at least get away from the station.


	3. Don

Jareth rubbed his wrists irritably. He had outright _refused _those blasted manacles, so what do they do? Hold him down and restrain his hands behind his back! The _indignity_ of it all! At least the judge had set his bail at something suitable. He knew from the shocked expressions in the courtroom that five-hundred-thousand dollars was an exceptionally large sum of money to set for bail. He was certainly worth more, but at least the judge had shown some effort. He was also pleased that arrangements had previously been made to post said bail, even if the person facilitating this looked like a pirate.

The big man who reminded him of Candlewick glanced down at him. "If I get even the smallest feeling that you might run, I'll break both your legs. Your medical bills will be a helluva lot cheaper than the bonus for bringing you back."

Jareth would have been infuriated at the threat if he wasn't so surprised the man could string so many words together. He told him so, and was knocked down for his trouble. Concrete, he learned, was not a good surface to land on. It tore his hands to shreds.

"Easy, Snake, I'll take him from here." Jareth looked up to find the Gatekeeper before him.

The big man, 'Snake,' shot Jareth a menacing look.

"Okay, you made your point. Now lay off before you make more trouble for me to clean up," Jennie intervened firmly.

Snake growled. "I guarantee delivery in one piece. Better condition depends on the cooperation of the package," but he relented and backed away to watch them both at a (very slightly) less menacing distance.

The Gatekeeper hitched an arm beneath Jareth's armpit and hoisted him to his feet. "Let's see," she instructed, indicating his hands.

Jareth decided it was wise not to reprimand the Gatekeeper for her lack of proper address, as it had never stopped her in the past, and because the man Snake appeared to be in her employ. Jareth felt the man was best left without further provocation. He indulged her and revealed his raw wounds.

"My, such delicate skin," she said mockingly.

Her comment solicited alarmingly crude laughter from her entourage, making Jareth wonder if they really were pirates, or maybe escaped convicts. He tried unsuccessfully to keep his face from reddening as he withdrew his hands.

"Oh, now, it's not that bad. I've got some sanitizer in the car you can use."

The statement was clearly meant to placate him, but he still shot her a vicious look.

"It's this way," she indicated the direction by tilting her head, apparently blind to his angry expression.

Jareth pretended not to hear.

"Oh come on; where else have you got to go?"

Jareth shot her a glance to tell her she knew full well what he had planned.

She deadpanned. "Are you NUTS??!" She rubbed her temples in irritation. "Jareth, you are one bad decision away from having Sarah put a restraining order on you! And, in case you don't know, that means that if you go within a hundred feet of her, you get arrested, and all the fun of the last two nights happens all over again."

Jareth shot the Gatekeeper a scathing look this time. She seemed completely immune to them.

"Listen, you have no money, no ID, and no means of getting either. Your choices are either to come with me, or go stay at the homeless shelter until your court date. Now if you're cool with spending the night sharing a room with a crazy wino –a lunatic drunkard," she corrected, "the shelter's that way. Try not to get robbed, beaten or stabbed."

Jareth shot a look at the Gatekeeper that he had until now reserved for goblins so treacherous that he executed them himself. She merely stood, waiting patiently. "You're despicable," he spat.

Her face brightened. "Does that mean you'll come?"

"Evil, loathsome woman!" Jareth grumbled, surrendering.

"Yup, that's me: heartless bitch," she agreed as she led him to her car. "Always doing dastardly deeds, like giving free room and board to suspected felons," she unlocked and opened the car door for him.

He got in without looking at her.

"Here," she said once she had gotten in, and tossed him a bottle with a strange, clear substance in it. "Rub it on your wounds; it will keep them from festering," she explained.

Jareth hissed as the stuff came in contact with the abrasions, stinging like mad. "If you think I'll be somehow indebted to you for this-"

"You'll be keeping my father company," she announced, "he always seemed rather fond of you," she mentioned off hand. Jareth saw the subtle hints in the woman's face that showed it was painful to talk about her father. He decided to rub salt in the wound.

"How _did _you manage to convince him to pass on the Key? You two always disagreed so vigorously, he swore he'd be Gatekeeper until you modified your views."

"He didn't have any say in the matter; fate intervened," the Gatekeeper's voice was soft and weighed with immeasurable sadness.

"In what way?" Jareth asked indelicately, not caring about the woman's feelings.

She paused, pursing her lips. "He had a stroke; quite a severe one. He was in emergency surgery for three hours. They saved his life, but..." she shook her head, and Jareth sensed a deep, deep sadness within her. "He's a shadow of what he was." Jareth felt a chill at this news. It promised something horrible waiting for him at their destination. And confound the Gatekeeper for taking his question as earnest, and answering in kind! They drove the rest of the way in silence.

The MacLellan house was a palatial, turn-of-the-century manor. It had been expertly updated with modern retrofits that blended very naturally with the original design. Jareth had spent a number of pleasant hours here, drinking and fraternizing with Gavin MacLellan, the previous Gatekeeper.

Gavin was the fourth Gatekeeper to make Jareth's acquaintance. He had almost immediately become Jareth's favourite by far. Gavin was an Old Boys' Club sort of man, and as long as Jareth bore himself like a gentleman, he could do no wrong in Gavin's eyes. Young Jennifer had voiced her disapproval of this at a very tender age. It had led, Jareth knew, to some very bitter arguments between the father and child.

MacLellan Manor looked just as Jareth remembered. The only change was a tiny kitten that greeted them at the door. "You have a cat," Jareth mentioned disdainfully.

"A cat and a whole litter of kittens," she corrected as she picked up the offending creature. "This is Widget. Her mom's name is Priscilla, and her litter-mates are Gear, Ratchet, Thingme and Dingle-Bob. I'm fostering them for the local SPCA chapter until the kittens are old enough to be adopted. And I strongly suggest you keep your hair tied back while you're here, because they'll attack it at every opportunity." A tiny clawed paw reached out towards one the Gatekeeper's stray locks, as if to substantiate her claims. "Oh you are so naughty!" she chided affectionately, putting the kitten back down. The creature took the opportunity to attack her shoelaces. "Take off your boots and I'll show you to your room," she ordered. It may have been phrased as a suggestion, but her tone left little doubt as to her expectations.

The boot jack was still in its usual place, so Jareth obliged. After spending the night in a holding cell with a number of the pathetic local variety of ruffian, the Gatekeeper's hospitality nearly met his standards. He had seen the guest room on previous occasions, though of course had never had need of it. He was pleased to see fresh linens and all necessary toiletries had been set out. There was also a change of clothes.

"I pulled out some of dad's old clothes. I doubt they're a very good fit, but they're clean and dry. We can look for something else tomorrow. Now come into the bathroom and I'll see to those scrapes."

Jareth hadn't suffered pain in 1300 years. It was even more unpleasant than he remembered. The Gatekeeper explained everything she was doing, and it was just as well; dressing a wound had changed greatly over two and a half centuries.

"And what of your father?" Jareth asked when she had finished.

"He's in his room. He's not cognizant very often, and even when he is aware, it's not by much. He's got a live-in nurse, Anna, but she's here to look after him, and not to see to your needs. I also have a cleaning service come in once a week, but there are no servants. I'll show you how to use everything, but you'll have to look after yourself." Jareth pulled another face at this declaration. Unnerved as always, the Gatekeeper simply answered, "you're welcome," in a tone one usually uses after receiving warm thanks. She turned and left him to settle in.

Jareth tried to burn holes in the door with his eyes, drilling the point where her heart had just been. She had single-handedly foiled his elaborate schemes, and rather than standing victorious over Sarah at last, he had spent not one but _two_ cold, wet nights in prison. He may no longer have any magic, but Jareth knew the ways of this world well enough to wreak horrible vengeance on the Gatekeeper. Casually, he wondered what would happen to the Key if the Gatekeeper died without and heir. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind, but he blinked and brushed them aside. Loath as he was to admit it, his stay here, and the Gatekeeper's instructions in particular, were an absolute necessity. And MacLellan Manor was the only place in town even approaching suitable to his taste.

* * *

Sarah hesitated. She flexed her fingers, and then reached out for the fifth time for the number keypad on the phone. Then she withdrew, for the fifth time. She shook her head and stabbed at the numbers with a little too much determination; the keys jammed several times, and it wasn't very kind on her fingers, either. She held her breath as the phone rang, forbidding herself to hang up.

"Hello?" a voice that was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Sarah answered.

"Hello, Irene, it's Sarah; I was calling because I left a box of writings at the house when I moved out, and I was wondering if they were still there?"

"If they are, they'll be in the garage; that's your father's territory."

That was strangely civil of Irene. "Okay," Sarah said, trying not to sound too taken aback by her stepmother's unusually pleasant tone, "can I talk to dad, then?"

"Of course," Sarah heard the speaker get muffled as Irene hunted for her father.

"Hello?"

"Hi dad, um, do you know if there's a box of old stuff I wrote in the garage?"

"Wasn't that mostly angry letters to you mom?"

"Yeah; I want to burn them."

"Sure, they're here. And I'm glad you're finally putting that behind you. Can I ask the reason?"

"Well, she called me today." Sarah blurted out.

There was a horrible pause on the other end of the line. "Really?" he seemed a little incredulous.

"She apologized, dad, for everything. She said that leaving us was 'inexcusable,' and her biggest regret."

"Sarah, I have had a very difficult day. If this is some kind of joke..."

"I know it seems weird, but to me it sort of fits. I just...felt it was important to tell you."

Robert sighed heavily. "Okay, thank you. Let me know when you want to come get the letters."

"I will, dad; bye."

* * *

Sarah rang the door to the Williams' house. She heard someone rush to open the door.

"Sarah, thank god!" Toby said quietly.

"What's the matter, Toby?" Sarah ansked equally quietly.

"Mom's been fussing over me ever since I got back. She's treating me like I'm five! _And _she's still giving me the third degree for where I've been. _Get me outta here!"_

"All right; you can couch surf for a couple of days," Sarah laughed,"_if _dad says it's ok."

"Oh, thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!" Toby hugged her gratefully. "I'm already packed; I'll go get my stuff." Toby practically flew up the stairs.

Sarah hunted around for her father. She found him reading the paper in the living room "I called to say I was coming over," she reminded him.

"Of course, honey," her father answered and ushered her towards the garage.

"I was thinking I'd scan some old photos to send to her, too," she mentioned.

"That's a great idea! We should be able to find everything in here."

It took them quite a while to sort through the boxes and find everything Sarah was looking for.

"Sarah, do you understand why I married Irene?" her father asked out of the blue.

"Why are you asking me?" she said evasively.

"I didn't want you growing up without a mother. I know you've never liked Irene, but she really tries. She always turned to me to try and work it out, but I thought I didn't need to get involved. I don't want the two of you to be barely civil anymore."

"You've been married to her for twenty years, dad. What finally made you decide things weren't all right?"

"This whole business with Toby; I can't help but feel he wouldn't have run off if I'd paid more attention to him. A boy needs his father. I really haven't been involved with this family, and now, Laura calls out of the blue. I never tried to work things out with her, and I can't help but wonder if I should have." He rubbed his temples in frustration. "God; what have I been doing?? It's like I spent two decades lost in a fog!"

Sarah came over and put her on hand on his shoulder. "We can't change the past, dad, but," she held up the box of her letters, "we can decide how it will shape our future. I'm sorry this thing with mom got heaped on top of all the other craziness that's been happening. And you're right; this crap with Irene stops now: I'm too old for it. Listen; Toby's asked to stay at my place for a couple of days. I think you two should take some down time and try to get your life back in order."

Robert sighed. "Irene is really proud of you, you know that?"

Actually, she didn't. She was touched.

"Promise me you and Irene will work things out soon, okay?"

"Promise," she kissed him.


	4. Hi mom!

Jareth rubbed his wrists irritably. He had outright _refused _those blasted manacles, so what do they do? Hold him down and restrain his hands behind his back! The _indignity_ of it all! At least the judge had set his bail at something suitable. He knew from the shocked expressions in the courtroom that five-hundred-thousand dollars was an exceptionally large sum of money to set for bail. He was certainly worth more, but at least the judge had shown some effort. He was also pleased that arrangements had previously been made to post said bail, even if the person facilitating this looked like a pirate.

The big man who reminded him of Candlewick glanced down at him. "If I get even the smallest feeling that you might run, I'll break both your legs. Your medical bills will be a helluva lot cheaper than the bonus for bringing you back."

Jareth would have been infuriated at the threat if he wasn't so surprised the man could string so many words together. He told him so, and was knocked down for his trouble. Concrete, he learned, was not a good surface to land on. It tore his hands to shreds.

"Easy, Snake, I'll take him from here." Jareth looked up to find the Gatekeeper before him.

The big man, 'Snake,' shot Jareth a menacing look.

"Okay, you made your point. Now lay off before you make more trouble for me to clean up," Jennie intervened firmly.

Snake growled. "I guarantee delivery in one piece. Better condition depends on the cooperation of the package," but he relented and backed away to watch them both at a (very slightly) less menacing distance.

The Gatekeeper hitched an arm beneath Jareth's armpit and hoisted him to his feet. "Let's see," she instructed, indicating his hands.

Jareth decided it was wise not to reprimand the Gatekeeper for her lack of proper address, as it had never stopped her in the past, and because the man Snake appeared to be in her employ. Jareth felt the man was best left without further provocation. He indulged her and revealed his raw wounds.

"My, such delicate skin," she said mockingly.

Her comment solicited alarmingly crude laughter from her entourage, making Jareth wonder if they really were pirates, or maybe escaped convicts. He tried unsuccessfully to keep his face from reddening as he withdrew his hands.

"Oh, now, it's not that bad. I've got some sanitizer in the car you can use."

The statement was clearly meant to placate him, but he still shot her a vicious look.

"It's this way," she indicated the direction by tilting her head, apparently blind to his angry expression.

Jareth pretended not to hear.

"Oh come on; where else have you got to go?"

Jareth shot her a glance to tell her she knew full well what he had planned.

She deadpanned. "Are you NUTS??!" She rubbed her temples in irritation. "Jareth, you are one bad decision away from having Sarah put a restraining order on you! And, in case you don't know, that means that if you go within a hundred feet of her, you get arrested, and all the fun of the last two nights happens all over again."

Jareth shot the Gatekeeper a scathing look this time. She seemed completely immune to them.

"Listen, you have no money, no ID, and no means of getting either. Your choices are either to come with me, or go stay at the homeless shelter until your court date. Now if you're cool with spending the night sharing a room with a crazy wino –a lunatic drunkard," she corrected, "the shelter's that way. Try not to get robbed, beaten or stabbed."

Jareth shot a look at the Gatekeeper that he had until now reserved for goblins so treacherous that he executed them himself. She merely stood, waiting patiently. "You're despicable," he spat.

Her face brightened. "Does that mean you'll come?"

"Evil, loathsome woman!" Jareth grumbled, surrendering.

"Yup, that's me: heartless bitch," she agreed as she led him to her car. "Always doing dastardly deeds, like giving free room and board to suspected felons," she unlocked and opened the car door for him.

He got in without looking at her.

"Here," she said once she had gotten in, and tossed him a bottle with a strange, clear substance in it. "Rub it on your wounds; it will keep them from festering," she explained.

Jareth hissed as the stuff came in contact with the abrasions, stinging like mad. "If you think I'll be somehow indebted to you for this-"

"You'll be keeping my father company," she announced, "he always seemed rather fond of you," she mentioned off hand. Jareth saw the subtle hints in the woman's face that showed it was painful to talk about her father. He decided to rub salt in the wound.

"How _did _you manage to convince him to pass on the Key? You two always disagreed so vigorously, he swore he'd be Gatekeeper until you modified your views."

"He didn't have any say in the matter; fate intervened," the Gatekeeper's voice was soft and weighed with immeasurable sadness.

"In what way?" Jareth asked indelicately, not caring about the woman's feelings.

She paused, pursing her lips. "He had a stroke; quite a severe one. He was in emergency surgery for three hours. They saved his life, but..." she shook her head, and Jareth sensed a deep, deep sadness within her. "He's a shadow of what he was." Jareth felt a chill at this news. It promised something horrible waiting for him at their destination. And confound the Gatekeeper for taking his question as earnest, and answering in kind! They drove the rest of the way in silence.

The MacLellan house was a palatial, turn-of-the-century manor. It had been expertly updated with modern retrofits that blended very naturally with the original design. Jareth had spent a number of pleasant hours here, drinking and fraternizing with Gavin MacLellan, the previous Gatekeeper.

Gavin was the fourth Gatekeeper to make Jareth's acquaintance. He had almost immediately become Jareth's favourite by far. Gavin was an Old Boys' Club sort of man, and as long as Jareth bore himself like a gentleman, he could do no wrong in Gavin's eyes. Young Jennifer had voiced her disapproval of this at a very tender age. It had led, Jareth knew, to some very bitter arguments between the father and child.

MacLellan Manor looked just as Jareth remembered. The only change was a tiny kitten that greeted them at the door. "You have a cat," Jareth mentioned disdainfully.

"A cat and a whole litter of kittens," she corrected as she picked up the offending creature. "This is Widget. Her mom's name is Priscilla, and her litter-mates are Gear, Ratchet, Thingme and Dingle-Bob. I'm fostering them for the local SPCA chapter until the kittens are old enough to be adopted. And I strongly suggest you keep your hair tied back while you're here, because they'll attack it at every opportunity." A tiny clawed paw reached out towards one the Gatekeeper's stray locks, as if to substantiate her claims. "Oh you are so naughty!" she chided affectionately, putting the kitten back down. The creature took the opportunity to attack her shoelaces. "Take off your boots and I'll show you to your room," she ordered. It may have been phrased as a suggestion, but her tone left little doubt as to her expectations.

The boot jack was still in its usual place, so Jareth obliged. After spending the night in a holding cell with a number of the pathetic local variety of ruffian, the Gatekeeper's hospitality nearly met his standards. He had seen the guest room on previous occasions, though of course had never had need of it. He was pleased to see fresh linens and all necessary toiletries had been set out. There was also a change of clothes.

"I pulled out some of dad's old clothes. I doubt they're a very good fit, but they're clean and dry. We can look for something else tomorrow. Now come into the bathroom and I'll see to those scrapes."

Jareth hadn't suffered pain in 1300 years. It was even more unpleasant than he remembered. The Gatekeeper explained everything she was doing, and it was just as well; dressing a wound had changed greatly over two and a half centuries.

"And what of your father?" Jareth asked when she had finished.

"He's in his room. He's not cognizant very often, and even when he is aware, it's not by much. He's got a live-in nurse, Anna, but she's here to look after him, and not to see to your needs. I also have a cleaning service come in once a week, but there are no servants. I'll show you how to use everything, but you'll have to look after yourself." Jareth pulled another face at this declaration. Unnerved as always, the Gatekeeper simply answered, "you're welcome," in a tone one usually uses after receiving warm thanks. She turned and left him to settle in.

Jareth tried to burn holes in the door with his eyes, drilling the point where her heart had just been. She had single-handedly foiled his elaborate schemes, and rather than standing victorious over Sarah at last, he had spent not one but _two_ cold, wet nights in prison. He may no longer have any magic, but Jareth knew the ways of this world well enough to wreak horrible vengeance on the Gatekeeper. Casually, he wondered what would happen to the Key if the Gatekeeper died without and heir. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind, but he blinked and brushed them aside. Loath as he was to admit it, his stay here, and the Gatekeeper's instructions in particular, were an absolute necessity. And MacLellan Manor was the only place in town even approaching suitable to his taste.

* * *

Sarah hesitated. She flexed her fingers, and then reached out for the fifth time for the number keypad on the phone. Then she withdrew, for the fifth time. She shook her head and stabbed at the numbers with a little too much determination; the keys jammed several times, and it wasn't very kind on her fingers, either. She held her breath as the phone rang, forbidding herself to hang up.

"Hello?" a voice that was like fingernails on a chalkboard to Sarah answered.

"Hello, Irene, it's Sarah; I was calling because I left a box of writings at the house when I moved out, and I was wondering if they were still there?"

"If they are, they'll be in the garage; that's your father's territory."

That was strangely civil of Irene. "Okay," Sarah said, trying not to sound too taken aback by her stepmother's unusually pleasant tone, "can I talk to dad, then?"

"Of course," Sarah heard the speaker get muffled as Irene hunted for her father.

"Hello?"

"Hi dad, um, do you know if there's a box of old stuff I wrote in the garage?"

"Wasn't that mostly angry letters to you mom?"

"Yeah; I want to burn them."

"Sure, they're here. And I'm glad you're finally putting that behind you. Can I ask the reason?"

"Well, she called me today." Sarah blurted out.

There was a horrible pause on the other end of the line. "Really?" he seemed a little incredulous.

"She apologized, dad, for everything. She said that leaving us was 'inexcusable,' and her biggest regret."

"Sarah, I have had a very difficult day. If this is some kind of joke..."

"I know it seems weird, but to me it sort of fits. I just...felt it was important to tell you."

Robert sighed heavily. "Okay, thank you. Let me know when you want to come get the letters."

"I will, dad; bye."

* * *

Sarah rang the door to the Williams' house. She heard someone rush to open the door.

"Sarah, thank god!" Toby said quietly.

"What's the matter, Toby?" Sarah ansked equally quietly.

"Mom's been fussing over me ever since I got back. She's treating me like I'm five! _And _she's still giving me the third degree for where I've been. _Get me outta here!"_

"All right; you can couch surf for a couple of days," Sarah laughed,"_if _dad says it's ok."

"Oh, thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!" Toby hugged her gratefully. "I'm already packed; I'll go get my stuff." Toby practically flew up the stairs.

Sarah hunted around for her father. She found him reading the paper in the living room "I called to say I was coming over," she reminded him.

"Of course, honey," her father answered and ushered her towards the garage.

"I was thinking I'd scan some old photos to send to her, too," she mentioned.

"That's a great idea! We should be able to find everything in here."

It took them quite a while to sort through the boxes and find everything Sarah was looking for.

"Sarah, do you understand why I married Irene?" her father asked out of the blue.

"Why are you asking me?" she said evasively.

"I didn't want you growing up without a mother. I know you've never liked Irene, but she really tries. She always turned to me to try and work it out, but I thought I didn't need to get involved. I don't want the two of you to be barely civil anymore."

"You've been married to her for twenty years, dad. What finally made you decide things weren't all right?"

"This whole business with Toby; I can't help but feel he wouldn't have run off if I'd paid more attention to him. A boy needs his father. I really haven't been involved with this family, and now, Laura calls out of the blue. I never tried to work things out with her, and I can't help but wonder if I should have." He rubbed his temples in frustration. "God; what have I been doing?? It's like I spent two decades lost in a fog!"

Sarah came over and put her on hand on his shoulder. "We can't change the past, dad, but," she held up the box of her letters, "we can decide how it will shape our future. I'm sorry this thing with mom got heaped on top of all the other craziness that's been happening. And you're right; this crap with Irene stops now: I'm too old for it. Listen; Toby's asked to stay at my place for a couple of days. I think you two should take some down time and try to get your life back in order."

Robert sighed. "Irene is really proud of you, you know that?"

Actually, she didn't. She was touched.

"Promise me you and Irene will work things out soon, okay?"

"Promise," she kissed him.


	5. MmmS'mores

Toby sighed in relief once they were safely away in Sarah's car.

"Did you finally get that amulet off?" Sarah asked, noticing the large, conspicuous piece of jewellry was conspicuously absent.

"No; I tried on every piece of clothing I own trying to find something I could hide it under, and then it shrank when I wished it wasn't so noticeable."

"Toby! Are you crazy?! How can you still make wishes after everything that's happened?!"

"I didn't meant to! I didn't even say it out loud! It just did what I wanted."

"Okay, okay. But just promise me you'll be careful?"

"Oh, I promise. But you gotta admit, I never would've found out about Moppet if I hadn't gone to the Labyrinth."

"Thank you so much for making me whole again, Toby. You can't imagine what it means to me to literally get my life back."

Toby was flustered at his sister's heartfelt thanks. "So what's with all the old photos?"

"I'm going to scan a whole bunch of photos to send to mom and show her what I've been up to for the last 20 years."

"That's kinda random…"

"I guess you didn't hear; my mom called from London the day after you got back from the Labyrinth. She suddenly realized she'd ditched me and dad, like magic."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yeah, she had told Jareth she wished her family didn't matter. Next day, ta-dah!"

"But why would he do that?"

"Let's just say I think I remind Jareth of my mother."

"Aw, that's sick!" Toby groaned in protest. He fished around for a change of subject. "What's in the box?"

"Angry letters I wrote to mom when I was your age. Jennie and I are going to burn them. Wanna come?"

"Sure," Toby shrugged.

"Is burning stuff not cool any more?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not exactly one of the cool kids, Sarah."

"Well, being the new Goblin King should do something for your 'rep," Sarah countered teasingly.

"Well I _was _gonna have the goblins dig up dirt on the jerks at school. Now way _that's_ gonna happen when the goblins can't come here…"

"It's just as well if you're going to use the goblins like that." Now it was Sarah's turn to change the subject. "Can you call Jennie for me?" she passed Toby her cell phone, "and put it on speaker phone, will you?"

Toby dialled the number obligingly.

"Hello?" Jennie answered.

"Hi Jennie, it's Sarah; I've got the letters, and I thought your fireplace would be perfect for our little roast."

"No can do; I've got a house guest," Jennie explained.

"You're letting him stay _there?!!_"

"Frankly, I'd rather he stay where I can keep an eye on him, but really, where else was he going to go? Besides, he needs to learn about the world. For instance, right now, he's learning how to use the internet," there was a hint of mischief in Jennie's voice as she explained this. Just then, someone in the background gave a horrified yell and Jennie burst out laughing. "I _told _you not to google Rule 34!" she chided the person in the other room. "You _could_ have just looked it up on Wikipedia!"

Sarah and Toby both laughed when they heard this.

Sarah clearly heard Jareth accuse Jennie of possessing a heritage that was anything _but _respectable while Jennie snickered quietly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Jennie told him in a tone that belied her amusement.

"Jennie, why are you letting him think you hate it when he insults you?"

"He's learning to use his words," she explained condescendingly.

Sarah laughed again.

"How about I meet you in the park, at the barbecue pit by the pond?" Jennie offered.

"Deal," Sarah agreed as she changed direction.

* * *

Burning her old letters was wonderfully cathartic. After she was done, they all toasted marshmallows that Jennie brought, along with the rest of the making for s'mores. Neither Sarah nor Toby had had s'mores since they had been kids, so it was nostalgic fun. But through it all, Toby seemed down. Jennie finally got him to tell them what was on his mind.

"I'm worried about the Goblin Kingdom," he told them. "I left kinda suddenly, and I'm supposed to be their king. I wi-" Jennie cut off the word "wish" with a harrumph. "I'd like a way to talk to everyone there," Toby rephrased

"Well, there is one portal that's still partially operational; no one can pass through it, but it can still be used to communicate with the people of the Labyrinth." Jennie gave Sarah a knowing look.

"You mean my mirror?" Sarah realized.

Jennie nodded.

"I can talk to Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Diddymus! Let's go!"

Sarah cruelly abused the speed limit as she rushed home. She didn't even slow down as she raced up the stairs to her room. Toby was hot on her heels.

"Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus!" Sarah called as soon as she was in earshot of her bedroom. She still had the vanity from her youth; it was a good piece of furniture, so she had brought it with her when she had moved out. Her heart ached as she thought of how it had been sitting there all these years, ready for her to talk to her friends.

"Skub, Spittledrum, Hana, Stank!" Toby called in turn.

They sat in front of Sarah's old vanity with baited breath. When they sat down, all they saw was their reflections.

"Dugyalogeduf," said the first to appear. It was Hoggle, with a clothespin on his nose.

"Hoggle, why do you have a clothespin over your nose? I can't understand a word you're saying!"

"Alas, milady," Sir Diddymus began as he appeared, "try as I might to convince him otherwise, Prince Hoggle maintains he finds the odour of the Bog of Eternal Stench unbearable."

"Smell bad," Ludo affirmed.

"Wait, _Prince _Hoggle?"

"Aye, the former king, being a man of his word, dubbed him such."

"Yah," Hoggle grumped, "thags so bush fer thad."

"W-well, as the new king, I hereby strip you of your title!" Toby declared.

Hoggle vanished with a 'poof,' then reappeared, and sighed. "Ya got any idea how long I been stuck down there?" he growled.

"Come now, Sir Hoggle, let us not mar this joyous occasion with such talk. It gladdens my heart to see you at long last, milady."

"Why Sarah go away?" Ludo asked.

"Oh, Ludo, everyone, I'm so sorry," tears began to well up in Sarah's eyes.

"It wasn't her fault," Toby interjected, "Jareth stole her memories...and her dreams."

"I always knew 'e was lower than a snake's belly," Hoggle grumbled.

"I figured his Kingness would be a bigger jerk than every goblin ever born," Hana huffed.

"How is everything there?" Toby asked.

"Events took a turn for the better once Candlewick found his way down an oubliette," Spittledrum grinned.

"Can't really say I'm sorry about that," Toby chuckled. "And I'm glad to see you on your feet again, Spittledrum. You're going to have to look after things in Goblin Town for a while; Jennie, the Gatekeeper, has sealed the doorway between our worlds."

"Yes, Skub is sorry he couldn't spy on nasty boys like Toby wanted," Skub apologized.

"That's okay, Skub, don't worry about it."

"How long will it be until Toby comes back? Skub is practicing new recipes for Toby to try!"

"Um, actually, I think you're going to have to wait a while. Jennie said I should wait until I become an adult until I decide whether I want to stay king, and I'm pretty sure she's going to keep the doorway closed until then."

"Indeed? When do humans normally become adults?" Spittledrum arched an eyebrow cryptically.

"I turn eighteen in four years," Toby offered.

Skub's face fell at that news.

"I promise I'll come talk to you as often as I can. This mirror is the only link between our worlds right now."

"We'll manage," Spittledrum assured Toby. His eyes glinted with what may have been delight.

"Has the Queen of Cups retreated?" Toby asked.

"All the way back to Morraine. Since you exposed her subjects' aversion to filth, we're had no trouble repelling her armies. Though Goblin Town is cleaner than we'd like."

"Yeah, lucky for us, I don't think the goblins will ever run out of ammunition," Toby grinned. "Oh, and Spittledrum, give Hana back her wings; I'm putting her on parole."

"Parole?! I never did nuthin'!" Hana protested.

"I want to hear about everything that's been happening in the Labyrinth," Sarah told everyone, ignoring Hana's tiny protests.

* * *

By the time Sarah and Toby were finished talking to everyone, Jennie had made a three-course meal with really fancy, complicated dishes, and they had all gone cold.

"Oh, uh, I guess we were up there for kind of a long time, huh?" Toby asked apologetically.

"Just a little," Jennie mimed a pinch with her hands. "I really have to get going; there are entirely too many creatures in my house that are better not left unattended for too long. Just throw dinner in the oven, and it should be palatable in no time."

"Aren't you going to have any?" Sarah asked.

"I already had mine. Anna will cook for herself and dad, and I'll feed the kitties. Then I give cooking lessons."

"Good luck with that," Sarah deadpanned.

"Fortunately, there are sprinklers installed in the kitchen. Dad was always forgetting something on the stove..."

She bade them good night and hurried home.

She found Jareth sulking in front of the television while Ratchet, Dingle-bob, Widget, Gear and Thingme all chewing on his hair. "I told you to put your hair back," she gloated.

"I stopped caring two hours ago," Jareth returned plaintively.

"Anything good on?" Jennie tried to change the subject. She glanced at the screen. "Ooh, MTV's actually playing music videos!"

"Absolutely disgraceful what passes for music today," Jareth grumbled, "this fellow's not bad, though."

On tv, a man was standing in front of a cab, dodging bullets that were being shot out of an imaginary gun. _"I'm afraid of Americans! I'm afraid of the world! I'm afraid I can't help it! I'm afraid I can't- I'm afraid of Americans!..."_

"Have you eaten?"

Jareth shot Jennie and evil look. "Anna made supper for herself and Gavin, but would not even lift a finger to help me."

"Good; I told her not to. You're supposed to fend for yourself, remember?"

Jared scoffed, and then continued to sulk and sneer at the television.

"Oh, for- what are you, sixteen?" Jennie snapped. She turned off the tv and grabbed Jareth by his ear.

"Let me go, you madwoman!"

She dragged him into the kitchen and ripped the fridge door open. "Meat. Cheese. Bread. Knife," she announced as she slammed each item down on the counter. "Make yourself a goddamn sandwich, or is that too complicated for you, _your highness?"_

Jareth accused her of something biologically impossible in relation to a disease-ridden slime-goat.

"Once you've had some practice with slicing those things without cutting off your fingers, you could even try putting on some condiments," she suggested condescendingly while Vanna White-ing the array of condiments in the fridge door.

Jareth suggested doing something thoroughly unpleasant with the knife she'd set out for him.

At that, Jennie looked him straight in the eye. "Do not. Ever. Threaten me. Not even just to be insulting. I _will _throw you out on the street without a second thought. In the MacLellan household, _all_ stand by their word." Jennie slammed the fridge door shut again and left without so much as a backward glance.

* * *

The next morning, Jareth regarded the sumptuous feast before him proudly. It had been centuries since he'd had to cook for himself, but he had remembered easily enough. Oatmeal seasoned with cinnamon, honey, raisins and nuts sat waiting in the pot. Steam rose gently from a casserole full of crepes, while sausages crackled on the stove. He had tried grilling a few pieces of toast on the stove by hand, wondering why he couldn't find a toasting grill, before remembering the toaster had been invented a century back. He felt sorry that people couldn't really appreciate how nice it was to have toast evenly browned on both sides ready at the push of a button.

He paused as he heard someone come down the stairs. It was Jennifer. He strightened and stood smugly next to his creation.

Jennie, still in her robe, squinted as she shuffled into the kitchen. She went over to Jareth, and then stopped.

Mumble, mumble, "coffee."

"Pardon?" Jareth asked, a bit disappointed that she hadn't had the expected reaction to his breakfast.

"I said, 'if you value your genitals, step away from the coffee.'"

It was only then that Jareth realized he was standing in front of the device that made Jennie's precious elixir. He danced to one side, doing his utmost to keep certain parts of his anatomy as far from her hands as possible.

Jennie poured herself a cup of coffee and shuffled over to the table without further comment. She reviewed the paper as she sipped her coffee. Jareth fumed silently.

Jareth had learned two things the first morning of his stay at MacLellan Manor: firstly, Jennie did not suffer anything coming between her and her morning coffee, and second, she had a black belt in aikido. Not even the cat dared to demand breakfast before she was good and sure Jennie's cup was empty.

Anna came downstairs already in uniform. She _did_ gape at the breakfast he had prepared, and Jareth charmingly told her to help herself.

Jennie put down her empty cup, but continued to read the paper.

Jareth let out a frustrated sigh. "Have some breakfast," he said, half-asking, half-telling her.

Jennie stiffened. "I don't think anyone's addressed me with that tone since mom died," she mentioned. Belinda MacLellan had passed away from cancer when Jennifer was seventeen. She had been a socialite and a homemaker; and old-fashioned sort of woman who suited Gavin very well. Jennifer had done her best to look after her father and the household after her mother passed away, but she was far more interested in getting her Masters' degree, and her father's complaints of her inadequacies as a cook finally drove her to move out. Now, in his more lucid moments, Gavin often mistook his daughter for his late wife. It was the only time he wasn't critical of her.

Realizing Jennie had finished her coffee, Priscilla advertised that she was also ready for breakfast. Jennie got up and measured out the matron's cat food. The sound of kibble hitting a feeding bowl woke up the kittens, and they demanded their own food. Jennie didn't look up until the air was filled with the sounds of munching and purring.

She arched her eye and the buffet on the counter. "Cute banana swan," she mentioned. She grabbed a piece of toast and hastily smeared peanut butter and jam onto it. She retreated back upstairs.

"Have something else!" Jareth half-asked, half-told her again.

"You know it's a work day," Jennie called back down.

Jennie grinned to herself as she got ready for work; she finally knew how to motivate Jareth: she just needed to tell him he couldn't do something. The verbal equivalent of a swift kick in the rear she'd given him last night had really lit a fire under him. A couple more strategic tauntings, and she might just make a productive member of society out of him.

* * *

After work, Jennie and Sarah giggled over the photos Jennie had sneaked with her cell phone.

"Is that a swan?" Sarah asked.

"Made out of bananas," Jennie nodded. "And here I thought I was going to have to teach him how to cook..."

But Sarah's mind was clearly elsewhere.

"So what have you been up to?"

"I've been talking with mom; she wants me to visit."

"Then go! School is almost finished, and you won't be needed to testify against Jareth for a couple of months. Take a vacation! See London!" Jennie sighed wistfully.

"It's just... that was supposed to be my life; the theatre. It's going to be really hard to see that."

"Is that what you still want?"

Sarah nodded.

"Then take it back. You always had the talent, Sarah, you're just a little rusty. See your mom, get back into your acting groove, and do some auditions. If nothing else, they'll be good practise."

Sarah smiled, "you're right. It's my life and I'm the one who has to make it happen, damnit!"

"Promise me you'll take lots of pictures?" Jennie asked, a cryptic sadness in her eyes.


	6. London

Here is the latest chapter; and feedback is always appreciated. I'm trying to bridge a few details so I can get to the fun part where Jareth wins Sarah's heart (of _course _I'm going there!) and reviews can help me see good directions to take!

* * *

Before she knew it, Sarah was on a plane, winging her way to London. She blinked blearily once she set foot in Heathrow Airport; it was nice to be on solid ground after flying for most of the . The customs officer grilled her regarding her stay with a casual politeness that took her aback. The British, it seemed, were very particular about who they let into their country. Once she got past security, she anxiously surveyed the crowd, looking for a woman she hadn't laid eyes on since she was seven years old.

Linda was greyer, and the lines in her face were deeper, but she was just as Sarah remembered her. They embraced as Linda wept gratefully. Her mother cupped her face in her hands as more tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, my beautiful little girl! All grown up!"

"You look amazing, mom!"

They taxied as far as they could, then took the subway ("The Tube," Sarah absolutelyl refused to call it the underground, even if that's what the signs called it) after that. London and its outskirts were far bigger than the tri-county area back home, and infinitely more populated. Subways are always great people watching, and London was no exception. Sarah was sure she saw people from every nationality on earth on the subway. Everyone clamoured in a myriad of different tongues, all at once. London looked like someone had taken a thousand years' worth of building styles, mixed them around, and then tossed them about with no rhyme or reason. Tudor buildings leaned next to charming Victorian homes, while Roman churches stood nestled between art-deco and modern, glass-fronted buildings.

Linda lived in a small, beautifully-decorated 1-bedroom flat in the West End Theatre District. She had set a bed for Sarah up in the small alcove that usually housed her office, and had in the process, Sarah strongly suspected, defied the laws of physics in rearranging the small flat.

"Are the rent prices in London as insane as people say?" Sarah asked off-hand.

"This place was a veritable steal at three hundred."

"Pounds?"

Her mother nodded.

"Six hundred dollars a month; not bad…"

"Oh no, dear; that's the weekly rate."

Sarah balked. The mortgage payments on her two-bedroom single were half that!

"If you don't mind, I've made dinner reservations," Linda said urging her out the door with a mischievous gleam in here eye.

"You're not telling me where we're going, are you?"

"It would hardly be a surprise if I did."

They walked south across the Thames, then east, past the Tate Modern museum. Sarah rolled her eyes when she saw the restaurant's name. "The Globe Restaurant!?"

"It's aptly named;" Linda pointed a little ways up and across the street.

And there it was; _the _Globe Theatre! Sarah gasped. She was awestruck by the presence of it! She knew it wasn't the original, but still!

"Come on, Sarah, if we don't hurry, we won't finish supper in time for the play!"

Sarah was disappointed by the restaurant's menu on two counts: first, she had been very much looking forward to trying some real English food, but the items on the menu looked more French than British, just like every other fancy restaurant she'd ever been to. The other disappointment was that no one seemed to have bothered to tell the British that their money was worth twice most currencies, and they still priced things as if they were asking dollars for them, instead of pounds. The few hundred Pounds Stirling that Sarah had brought with her was going to be used up very quickly.

They quibbled over who got to pay the bill afterwards, but Sarah was anxious to get to the play, so she let her mother get it. It was _Love's Labour's Lost_ playing that night, and it was every bit was anticlimactic as the title promised.

Sarah was silent and heavy-hearted as they returned to her mother's flat. Despite what Jennie had told her, it was hard not to grieve for the life she hadn't lived.

"Are you angry with me, dear?" her mother asked delicately.

"What? No!! Mom, I envy you! I want to get back to the theatre, but I've wasted so many years…"

"Well, it's hard to make it in this business, as you know, but, there are some advantages to being a little older; all the good-looks-no-talent types who get their parts on the casting couch have been weeded out by then."

Sarah smiled. "Serious auditions only!"

"And there are no small parts-"

"-Only small actors!" they giggled at the old adage her mother had always told her.

"If this is really what you want, Sarah, I will do everything in my power to help you."

Sarah took a deep breath. "It is."

The flare of pride in Linda's eyes was unmistakable.

Sarah spent the next few days shadowing her mother. She watched her during every reading, every rehearsal, every audition, and every party. They got some wonderful head and body shots from a photographer Linda knew. They went over parts that Sarah was perfect for, delivering the lines dozens of different ways. Linda taught her how to research directors and producers, so that she knew what they liked for any given play.

And then, Linda got her the first audition. She didn't want to go: she wasn't ready. She was sick from nerves. It was for a bit-part in a play Sarah (and the rest of the world) had never heard of, that she could never do even if she got it; it wouldn't start until the fall, when she would certainly have to be back in the 'States. The audition was just for practise, she kept telling herself. It didn't matter; she still wanted to throw up every time she opened her mouth.

She stammered out the first few words, when the director raised his hand for silence. She shut her mouth gratefully and waited to be dismissed.

"You're American?"

"Yes, Mr. Prebble."

"You wouldn't happen to be related to Linda Williams, would you?"

"She's my mother." Sarah fingered her script nervously.

"Sarah, can you go to the bottom of page 32 and read Cynthia's lines?" The director turned to the stage manager. "Tom, go see if Frank is around, will you?"

Sarah broke out in a cold sweat. Cynthia was the lead! She turned to the required page with shaking hands. She took some deep breaths and tried to memorize the lines. She'd only read over them once. She wouldn't have even done that much if her mother hadn't insisted she read the whole play through.

"Ah, Frank, there you are! Sarah, this is Frank," the director announced.

Frank strode up and offered his hand while sporting a charming, arrogant smile. The expression hit Sarah like a bolt of lighting, and she remembered why she was here. She wasn't here to practise: she was here to get her life back! Her iron will summoned a core of steely resolve, and her nerves vanished.

"Sarah Williams," she introduced herself, taking his hand and smiling confidently.

She delivered her lines flawlessly. The director was openly impressed. "Thank you, Ms. Williams, we'll be in touch!"

Sarah smiled and nodded, then spared a quick glance at her mother, who was barely able to keep from jumping out of her seat to applaud. They quietly walked outside together.

"I think I nailed it," Sarah mentioned casually as the door closed behind them.

Linda shrieked and jumped up and down, then kissed Sarah. "Oh, baby, you were brilliant!"

"You knew they were looking for a new lead, didn't you?" Sarah asked her accusingly.

"They never hold auditions for parts that small for plays like this unless they're looking to fill other roles," Linda explained. "The rumour was that Prebble wanted an American."

Sarah sighed. "But you know I can't do it, mom, I don't even have a visa!"

"The production company can get you one," her mother assured her.

"Linda, darling, where have you been hiding this gem?!" Frank asked, popping his head out the door. "I've never seen you do anything in New York; don't tell me you've been wasting your talents in LA?"

"I haven't been doing anything; the Goblin King stole my dreams, and I lost all interest in acting. It kind of waylaid my career," Sarah deadpanned.

Frank laughed, though Sarah saw Linda pale a little.

"How awful of him!" Frank declared with a limp-wristed wave. "For the good of theatre, we must make sure nothing but good fairies come near you from now on!" he winked at her.

"There's no such thing," Sarah muttered under her breath, must smiled appreciatively.

"She's coming to the cast party tonight, isn't she Linda?"

"Of course, of course!"

"Yay! I can introduce you to _everybody!_"

Sarah tried to smile as genuinely as possible as she wondered what she was getting herself into.

* * *

Sarah tried to smooth nonexistent wrinkles from the one nice dress she'd packed for the billionth time as she greeted her thirty-seventh new best friend. She had gone to a couple of her mother's cast parties already, but before, she had been an invisible nobody. Today, it seemed she was the guest of honour. She was completely overwhelmed by the mass of guests all wanting to meet the next big thing in theatre. There was even a horrifying moment, while a couple of people were re-enacting a scene out of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof for the entertainment of the guests, when she felt she was nowhere near artsy enough to be here, and had the powerful urge to flee. She rode it out, but still felt generally uncomfortable in her own skin.

She was incredibly thankful to finally plunk down on the little cot in the alcove of her mother's flat.

"You're the toast of the town," her mother twittered as she undressed in her room, "it's obvious to everyone you're going places!"

"I was just planning to come for a visit, and now everybody's trying to set up my career here!" Sarah complained.

"Oh come on, Sarah, you're being handed a career on a silver platter, what's to complain about?"

"This is all just going way too fast," she explained "and I have to go back to the 'States for Jareth's trial if we're ever going to have a hope of putting him away!" she twisted her mouth as she tried to absorb the direction her life was rapidly taking. "I figured I'd give my badly-neglected acting skills a bit of exercise before heading home and auditioning for the community theatre in town."

"Life rarely, if ever, does what we want it to, Sarah. And it would be terribly dull if it did. But this is what you want, even if it's not _how_ you wanted it. _Lance-toi,_ as the French say; throw yourself into it."

"Why not?" Sarah sighed.


	7. Guilty!

Prebble nearly had a fit when Sarah told him she was returning to America. He offered her a visa and a £500 relocation bonus. She accepted, though the bonus wouldn't even cover her flight. She then lined up two smaller parts that she could start in the fall. She also phoned the school board to let them know she was planning to take a sabbatical. She tied up all the loose ends she could, but was anxious to get home; she didn't want to miss a single day of Jareth's trial.

When Sarah returned, she discovered the D.A., Gordon White, was acting as prosecutor for the case. She wasn't terribly surprised, though she wondered how Jennie had managed to get White involved. Probably something to do with a substantial contribution the MacLellans had given the White for his election campaign. White was interviewing everyone in relation to Jareth's case, so she, Toby and Jennie were grilled once again. The D.A. didn't bother so much with facts, however; he was much more interested in the impact of Jareth's actions on them.

It was hard to drag out those feelings, especially since Sarah had gone to such lengths to let them go. But White explained that they would have to convince the jury that Jareth was a danger to society in order to convict him, and that they would have to work against the emotional appeals of harmlessness the defence would no doubt use. The D.A. planned to make the jury feel like Jareth was a threat to Sarah and Toby.

When the day of the trial finally arrived, Sarah was sick from nerves. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Jareth, either; it was one thing hear Jennie relate his goings on to her, but quite another to actually see him, and to have him see her. Jennie walked arm-in-arm into the courtroom with Sarah. They sat towards the back, but Jennie had been quite careful to keep the whole affair out of the media, so there was little outside interest in the trial, and the seats were mostly empty. The jury were an odd mix of people; the idea of having peers, let alone being judged by them, had apparently not sat well with the former Goblin King, and so it had taken an extraordinarily long time to select the jury. AS a result, the trial had been delayed by nearly a month.

When Jareth entered, escorted by a bailiff and his defence attorney, he gazed at Sarah with undisguised longing. It gave her the chills. Jennie physically stood in front of Sarah, blocking Jareth's line of sight. Sarah sighed in relief when Jareth's gaze was broken. He sat down at the table for the defence, and it seemed his lawyer told him to look ahead, for he stopped looking back. His hair was tied back and he was wearing a rather plain suit that was a bit old-fashioned. The generous overcoat he wore added bulk to his slender frame. It was the same one he had been wearing the last time she'd seen him, Sarah realized.

"All rise," the bailiff announced, "for the trial of the State of Iowa vs. Jareth Quinn, Judge Shipman presiding."

"You may be seated," the Judge said, all business, "court is now in session."

The opening statements went as Sarah had expected; the defence was trying to have the charges dismissed, claiming Jareth hadn't done anything illegal, while the prosecution was submitting that Jareth had made Sarah and Toby's lives miserable for the last thirteen years.

The proceedings dragged forward at a snail's pace. It was weeks before Sarah was even called to the stand. White had rehearsed with her and taught her what kind of questions to expect from the defence. She went up to give her testimony with her iron resolve and was careful not to look at Jareth. She sat perfectly straight as she answered the D.A.'s questions.

"How long have you known the defendant, Ms. Williams?"

"I first met him when I was fifteen. He forced his way into my brother's nursery through a window. I met him again a few days after Toby went missing in May. He claimed he was an old acquaintance, and I couldn't remember him at the time"

"So, he forced his way inside in order to get to you?"

"Objection! You honour, Mr. White is leading the witness,"

"Sustained."

"You Honour, I was merely summarizing the report Ms. Williams made to the police: it says she heard a considerable amount of scratching at the windows of her brother's nursery, and then saw the defendant standing in front of the windows, which were now open. My witness has attested to the fact that the defendant entered the house uninvited. Is that correct, Ms. Williams?"

"Yes," Sarah agreed vigorously.

"You said you didn't recognize the defendant when you saw him last May."

"No; Jennie jogged my memory as to who he was with some photos, and when I realized who he was, Jennie and I were able to get Toby back from him."

"Let the record stand that the witness refers to exhibit C," White interjected. Noticing Sarah's pallor, White changed tactics. "Are you comfortable being on the stand, Ms. Williams?" the D.A. asked.

It wasn't one of the questions they had practised, but Sarah had no difficulty answering. "No."

"Please tell us why,"

"I don't like Jareth staring at me. I don't even like it when he can see me."

The jury murmured at that. The judge called for order.

"Tell us about what your life has been like for the last thirteen years, Ms. Williams."

"I wasn't able to remember what had happened with Jareth, but I just…stopped wanting to do anything. I lost interest in everything I loved. He stole thirteen years of my life." Sarah was being vague and fudging, of course, but this was the answer she had practised.

"Your honour, I would like to submit the following; it is a psychological evaluation of Ms. Williams." The evaluation had of course been done by a shrink the D.A. had hired, who would have no doubt have evaluated Sarah to be six different kinds of insane had the D.A. wanted. Sarah hoped that wouldn't be mentioned. "It shows she has suffered from memory loss and depression, symptoms consistent with post-traumatic stress disorder, which is the psychologist's evaluation of her condition. I charge that the defendant so traumatized Ms. Williams by the threats to her brother and herself that she was unable to function normally." White handed the documents to the judge, who leafed through them.

"Objection!" the defence began, but Jareth grabbed the man's wrist. The two had a heated discussion, which Jareth apparently won. The lawyer didn't look happy about this at all. "You honour, the defence does not wish contest this accusation."

Shocked, Sarah glanced at Jareth before she could stop herself. He gave her a very apologetic look. She quickly looked away again. Throwing her a bone wasn't going to keep him out of prison.

White cocked his eyebrow, but said only, "your witness."

"How did you recover your half-brother, Ms. Williams?" the defence lawyer asked.

"Jennie knew where he was being kept; she had me make it clear that Toby was missed, and used that to arrange for his release," she recited.

"It doesn't sound like you had any trouble at all recovering your brother, once you decided you wanted him back."

"It was a very delicate operation," Sarah recited again. "Jennie -Ms. Maclellan did all the work."

"Did it take you a long time to recover your brother?"

"I'm not sure how long Ms. MacLellan had been working to free by brother before I became involved."

"But how long did it take to recover Toby Williams once you were involved?"

"Less than an hour."

"Less than an hour? If Mr. Quinn had gone to so much trouble to abduct your brother, why was it so easy to recover him?"

"He didn't have any choice; Jennie made sure of that."

"Oh, and how did she manage that?"

"You'll have to ask her." Sarah answered, shaking her head.

"Then I call Jennifer MacLellan to the stand."

Jennie took the stand in a much more casual manner than Sarah had. She glared at the defence as if daring him to try and discredit her. The lawyer visibly quailed under her stern gaze. Jennie and Jareth gave a derisive snort in unison.

The lawyer cleared his throat. "Ms. MacLellan, can you please tell us how you arranged for the supposed release of Toby Williams."

"My heritage cam into play," Jennie explained.

"In what way?"

"I can't tell you that."

"And why is that, Ms. MacLellan?"

"As has been explained to you, recovering Toby was a careful matter; since the police declined to get involved, I had to make use of my own abilities to retrieve him. Going into greater detail would betray the confidence of my family, and potentially endanger people of great value to me."

"This all seems awfully convenient, Ms. MacLellan."

Jennie moved in for the kill. "Your scepticism shows a woeful lack of understanding as to how the world works, Mr. Devon. When something is known that should not be known, the holder of that knowledge does not advertise it openly. Informants frequently prefer anonymity because they face very serious repercussions if the wrong people discover who they have been talking to. Any idiot who has ever watched a mobster movie knows that."

The lawyer blushed scarlet at the tongue lashing Jennie gave him. "But what would a woman with your illustrious history be doing with such contacts? Are you implying you have underworld connections?"

Jennie couldn't help but smile at the irony of the question. "If there are any underworld connections, they relate entirely to the defendant. I merely use discrete lines of communication: knowing people who know people who know people has its uses."

The defence tried another tack. "How long have you known the defendant, Ms. MacLellan?"

"My entire life."

"Do you like him?"

"What, as in _like_ like him?" Jennie countered playfully. Jareth was desperately trying to keep from snickering.

"You've known Mr. Quinn for a very long time, but are you friends?"

"He's my father's friend, but I don't particularly _dislike _him, I just don't approve of his actions."

"Do you approve of his friendship with your father?"

"No."

"And for what length of time have you disapproved of that relationship?"

"How old was I, five?" Jennie asked Jareth. He signalled that it sounded right. "Twenty-three years."

"Would you say you resented their friendship?"

Devon had hit a weak spot. Jennie stirred. "At times," she admitted warily.

"Could you please tell the court how long you have been aware of Mr. Quinn's supposedly illegal activities?"

"Fourteen years, as I have stated"

"Well, if you've known that long, why did you never call the police?"

"Because my father would have gotten involved; I didn't want to make him an accomplice."

"Instead you've made yourself an accessory."

"The incident fourteen years ago resolved itself without any intervention. You can hardly fault a fifteen-year-old for considering the matter closed. Once I discovered Jareth was involved in illegal activities again, I immediately reported the matter to the police."

Try as he might, the defence could not do much to discredit Jennie. She painted Jareth as selfish and irresponsible (which he was), and herself as long-suffering witness to his awful behaviour (which she was). Sarah painted him as an obsessed stalker, while Toby testified he was a weirdo with a decidedly unhealthy level of interest in the 15-year-old boy. Toby was reluctant to get involved, and kept his testimony to a bare minimum.

Sarah had considered attending as much of the trial as she could, but it was long, tedious and dredging up all the details of everything Jareth's had done was unpleasant on the best of days. So she gave her testimony and watched Toby's and some of Sarah's, and otherwise saw to her own life.

It didn't take long for Jareth to realize he was going to lose. He had expected to be angrier. Now, all he felt was remorse. Jennie saw that he was in terrible spirits and ceased tormenting him. Life at the Manor now revolved around the only safe subject of conversation: Gavin MacLellan. Jareth and Jennie had agreed not to tell Gavin about the trial. As far as Gavin was concerned, Jennie was simply helping Jareth adjust to mortal life. Most days, Jareth regaled Gavin with tales of the Goblins' antics. Gavin had forgotten them all, and rarely remembered what Jareth told him the next day, so Jareth had 1300 years of material to draw from. Gavin, in turn, would tell Jareth what party Belinda was planning, or what Jennie was learning in school. Sometimes he'd call for Belinda, and sometimes Jennie indulged him by impersonating his late wife. Otherwise, they'd tell him she was away visiting family.

All the attention was doing Gavin a lot of good; he could sit and feed himself now. It was a bittersweet victory; to see such a proud man reduced to a dotard was hard for anyone who had known him. It also reminded Jareth what awaited him in a few short decades. The rapid pace of change he'd left behind in the mortal world had accelerated to a fevered pitch. He'd been seen the way people rushed about now, but being immersed in it was horrifying. He almost enjoyed the tedium of his court sessions; it was the least mad part of his days.

The inevitable day of the court ruling arrived and delivered the inevitable sentence. He was given four years and was forbidden to approach Toby until he turned 21. Jareth made a statement, saying he accepted the court's decision and apologizing for what he'd done. He was very surprised when Sarah approached to speak to him as he was being led away.

"I'd tell you to have a nice life, but we both know the hazards of wishing for things we don't want around you," she told him coldly. "I'm leaving the country, and I don't plan on coming back. I'm encouraging dad to get a transfer overseas, too. Bring the whole family –including Toby."

"Where are you going?"

Sarah scoffed. "I'm not telling you that. I will tell you they don't allow convicted felons to travel there, though." Sarah looked at him even more coldly. "You may have stolen thirteen years of my life, but I'll be damned if I waste another second on you. I'm taking my life back as of now."

She turned and left without a backward glance. Jareth was thankful that Toby now controlled the Labyrinth; he didn't want to know how it would fare under the effects of having his heart so completely shattered. He as also thankful that the bailiff had already handcuffed him, making it difficult to break things.

* * *

What a horrible ending! Jareth gone to rot in jail while Sarah leaves never to see him again! Sure he deserves it, but is that how we think the story should end?? Let's hope there's a few more chapters, so this tale becomes a bit less tragic!


	8. Four years later

_Four years later…_

Mike approached his colleague's office respectfully. Coming to this section of the building was kind of like going to a strange land filled with odd-looking creatures; nearly every single employee had some sort of very noticeable deformity. They were all more than competent at their jobs, of course. It was just that their boss seemed to enjoy hiring people who looked strange. It was kind of refreshing in a world where plenty of execs had hot, blonde assistants. New York was definitely big enough for both types, though.

Mike greeted Margret warmly. Margret was a stern, white-haired woman who looked a few years past retirement age, and just about the antithesis of a hot blonde assistant. She was, however, extremely capable.

"Mr. Hicks," she greeted him in a way that made Mike think she used to be in the military, "Mr. Quinn will see you now."

"Thank you, Margaret." Mike passed through the door to find Jareth looking serious.

Mike had only known Jareth for two years, but the man usually wore an impish smile. For an ex-con, he was uncharacteristically cheerful. But then, he was also uncharacteristically successful. Between the contacts Jareth had made with white-collar criminals while in prison, and his sly cunning, Jareth was one of the best damn CEO's in the world. He'd almost single-handeldy made Fae-Muse Inc. the top production company in New York City, and everyone was waiting for Jareth to expand to California. Wealth and power suited the man; Mike could easily imagine Jareth casually ordering subjects around from a throne. The accent helped, of course. But any such glorious plans were currently on hold for a family emergency. And today, the head that wore the crown was heavy indeed.

"Bad news?" Mike asked respectfully.

"The nurse found her unresponsive this morning. They've managed to stabilize her, but she hasn't regained consciousness yet," Jareth answered quietly.

Mike just nodded. Neither of them ever spoke the woman's name when they talked about her condition. It made it less painful, and helped them wish her illness on another. The woman had become almost as dear to Mike as she was to Jareth, and Mike greatly pitied her fate. "When are you heading over to the hospital?"

"I have one last, very urgent piece of business to attend to, and I pray she lives long enough for me to do it. I don't suggest you stay; it won't be pleasant."

"Are you sure? I know how hard this is."

"I have a meeting with someone who never intended to see me again. I have invoked her displeasure and will have to face the consequences. Nevertheless, I had to do it."

"It's _her, _isn't it?"

Jareth shot Mike a discouraging look. Jareth didn't talk about his past, especially his life before he'd gone to prison. Mike had only managed to glean the existence of the mystery woman from Jareth's explanations of why he was always so good to the women he dated.

"You treat every girl you date like a queen, and you could have any woman in New York – the state as well as the city. You've met more smart, funny, beautiful, amazing women than anyone I've ever met, and instead of keeping one, you marry them off to other guys. One of these days, the Lonely Billionaire's Club is gonna erect a statue in your honour, and you've fixed more broken hearts than the cardiac institute at the Mayo Clinic! Is she really _that _special?"

"You've met every woman I've dated, and yet you're pining over one dying in a hospital. Do you still want me to answer that question?"

Mike shook his head. "Fair enough. But one of these days, you're going to have to tell me who this mysterious woman is, and what you did to her that landed you in prison, and made her leave the country."

That put a sly grin on Jareth's face, if only briefly. "And deny her the pleasure of defaming me herself? Never!"

Mike gave Jareth a compassionate smile and headed down to the lobby. His jaw dropped at the sigh of the raven-haired beauty who was waiting there. "Sarah Williams!" Ms. Williams smiled politely and took the hand he offered. "Are you finally coming to do some work in New York?!" he asked excitedly.

"No; I'm here to settle some personal business I thought I had already resolved." There was a dangerous glint in her eye as she said it.

"_You're _the woman Jareth's expecting?" The look she gave him said Jareth ought to be expecting her to eviscerate him. "I'll show you up," he offered tentatively. Mike waited until they were alone on the elevator before asking, "So what happened between you two, anyway?"

"I was _fifteen _the first time I met Jareth. He kidnapped my baby brother to use as bait in some sick game he wanted to play in order to dominate me. I beat him," Sarah seethed. "So then he spends _fourteen years_ stalking me and trying to turn my brother into a juvenile delinquent, finally kidnapping Toby _again_ in some psycho revenge scheme against me. Fortunately, a very good friend of mine was smart enough to call the police the second my brother went missing, so we nailed him with charges for luring a minor and forcible confinement." The elevator doors opened and Sarah caught sight of Jareth's office. She walked towards it with deadly intent. She didn't even stop to acknowledge Margaret, she just burst through the door. "So you can understand why I am not happy when I discover he's violating the restraining order against him," she hissed accusingly while glaring at Jareth.

"I haven't gone within a mile of Toby, let alone a hundred feet," Jareth explained placatingly.

"Toby gets acceptance to Julliard with a full scholarship handed to him on a silver platter a full month before the letters are even supposed to be sent out. You didn't think that would raise red flags the second we saw it? How long do you think it took me to find out you'd offered the board of directors a massive grant on the condition they accept my brother into the acting master class?"

"Wait, Toby Williams, the superstar kid who wowed Julliard?" Mike asked, trying to diffuse the situation. "He doesn't need any help from what I've heard." He should have left, but neither Jareth nor Ms. Williams seemed to mind him staying, and he was far too curious to leave of his own accord.

"He's worked his butt off to get into Julliard, and he doesn't need an ex-con with a court order to _stay the hell away from him_ to _buy _him his way in!" Sarah was actually red from fury as she chewed Jareth out.

Jareth bowed his head in polite acquiescence. "Very well; I'll call the board at Julliard and tell them I'm withdrawing the condition on my funding, and I will tell them why."

"Thank you," she said with a polite tone that had seething hostility beneath it. "Now, you have two minutes to tell me why you've pissed me off badly enough to come all the way from London, and then I get a restraining order put on you for me. Start talking." Sarah's tone would have been completely appropriate for someone holding a loaded gun to another person's head.

"Have you spoken to Jennie recently?" he asked. It was clear Sarah didn't like Jareth speaking so familiarly about Jennifer.

"I talked to her a couple of weeks ago, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her today," Sarah said guardedly. "One minute, thirty seconds," she warned.

"How did she sound?"

"Not great. Seventy-five seconds."

"Did she tell you why?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well. Sixty seconds." Mike exchanged a concerned glance with Jareth. "What?" she asked irritably.

"Sarah…Jennie's in the hospital. She's very, very sick."

"Oh yeah, how sick?" Sarah asked, clearly not believing a word Jareth had said.

"She's dying of leukemia," Mike was barely able to get out before choking back tears. He knew it was too hard for Jareth to talk about.

"Bull_shit!_"Sarah laughed. "I think my best friend would tell me if she had cancer. And you, are you Mike?" Mike nodded. "yeah, you've only known Jennie for what, five months? And you're trying to tell me you're that upset about someone you barely know? Yeah; right. Excuse me, I have to go talk to the police now." She was turning to leave as the phone rang.

Jareth hurriedly picked up. "Jennie?" he asked.

"Why do you have me on speakerphone?" a very weak voice asked. Sarah froze. "Is Mike there?"

"Hey gorgeous," Mike greeted her with a sad warmth in his voice.

"Only you would find me sexy hooked up to all this gear, Mike; you and your hospital fetish!" Mike gave a bitter laugh at Jennie's quip. "I woke up to find you forced yet another transfusion on me, Jareth. I don't know what possessed me to grant you power of attorney. You do that again and I'll convert to being a Jehovah's Witness. They'll stop all transfusions on religious grounds."

Sarah covered her mouth but was unable to keep a distressed sob from escaping.

No one spoke for a moment. "Is that Sarah?" Jennie asked.

"Why didn't you _tell _me, Jennie!?" Sarah sobbed.

"Jareth, you incorrigible bastard," Jennie said in a tone that indicated it was a statement of fact, and not an insult. "As for your question, Sarah, two reasons, first, I didn't want you worrying unnecessarily on my account, and second, I knew you'd come back, and I swore to Jareth I would never ask you to come back, for any reason. You know that nothing would ever compel me to break my word." Jennie's tone made it clear she disapproved of Jareth's behaviour.

"Sarah deserves a chance to say good bye," Jareth told her defiantly as he offered Sarah a silk and lace handkerchief. She accepted it and quietly dried her eyes.

"Now Jareth, the reason I called is I want to speak to you about something in person. I think you should hurry." With that suggestion, Jennie hung up.

Jareth gave Sarah a gentle look. "I have a jet ready and waiting. I know you'd rather make your own arrangements to get there, Sarah, but I don't think there's enough time."

"I've already made arrangements to get there under my own power," Mike lied. He knew Jareth could be an absolute devil when he didn't get what he wanted, and it didn't take a mind-reader to see that right now he wanted to have a private conversation with Sarah Williams. Mike gave them both a grim nod and excused himself.

There was a stretched limo waiting downstairs for Jareth, which he helped her into as hastily as he could without sacrificing good manners. The building that held Fae-muse Inc. wasn't too far from the airport, but the chauffeur still drove like a maniac. They by-passed all of the regular lines and were whisked through the lightest security Sarah had ever seen at an airport, then straight onto a rather sizeable private jet.

It wasn't until the plane had taken off that Sarah was able to relax enough to realize she had no idea where they were headed. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"The Mayo Clinic. The MacLellans helped to fund the Mayo brothers' first hospital. Jennie still stayed in Illinois until she was too ill to argue against being moved, though." Jareth sighed in frustration.

"You're taking this awfully personally. I'm surprised you care at all; Jennie worked harder than anyone to put you away, and I know better than anyone how you can hold a grudge."

"Jennie also visited me in prison. I understood before I was even convicted that she didn't have me charged out of malice. She truly believed I needed to answer for what I had done. And she worked harder than anyone to make sure I had a life after I got out. She was there waiting for me the day I got out with a fresh change of clothes, all necessary identification, even a green card! I stayed at MacLellan Manor for a while after I was released, until Jennie couldn't suffer me any longer and gave me a swift kick out into the world." Jareth smiled. "She told me I was useless and that I'd never make anything of myself. No doubt knowing full well I'd work like mad just to prove her wrong.

"After that, she still invited me over for holidays. I think she's been quite lonely since her father passed away. That's part of the reason I introduced her to Mike. The other being that I knew they'd take to each other instantly," he waved his hand dismissively. "They would probably already be married if Jennie hadn't fallen ill. Mike still wants to, though Jennie refuses, ever the pragmatist." Jareth looked out the window with a bitter expression. Sarah could see the frustration bubbling just under his surface.

"Even so, you can't blame yourself for her getting sick," she offered.

"Can't I? Why do you suppose the Gatekeepers don't simply keep the doorways between this world and the others sealed all the time? Don't you think it would save a lot of trouble?"

"I've…never though about it."

"Keeping the Gateway sealed requires a tremendous amount of energy. Jennie is young and strong, and can therefore keep it up for quite a while. But sooner or later, sealing the Gateway takes its toll. And so, when the disease that claimed her mother began to ravage her body, Jennie had no energy to spare for fighting it. The physicians trying to treat her are flummoxed; they've never seen cancer spread so quickly in someone so young and healthy. They keep testing her for autoimmune deficiencies; convinced she has some disease that's preventing her from fighting off the cancer. She could make a full recovery if they could find a bone marrow donor for her, but they've screened perhaps a few thousand people, and her type is quite rare. She's fading so fast, there's no hope of finding one in time. And to top it all off, she obstinately refuses to extend her life by any means medical or magical."

Sarah jumped as Jareth suddenly slammed his fist against the side of the jet. His face held more anger and frustration that she had ever seen.

Seeing he'd startled her, he sighed dejectedly and held his head in his hands. "She's the nearest thing I have to family and I am completely, literally powerless to stop her from dying."

Sarah was hit with a sudden, horrifying realisation. "She's doing it so that Toby can live a normal life!" she gasped.

"Something she would have preferred you didn't know. But it was her choice, Sarah," Jareth assured her, coming over and taking her hand. "I can't tell you how many times we've quarrelled about this over the years." He raised a hand to stroke the side of her face, but froze mid-gesture, thinking better of it. He withdrew the hand that held hers and sat back down. "I felt that Toby should be practising his magic and preparing to take over my throne, but Jennie absolutely refused. She said his life here should have priority. Rightly so, I suppose. It is a bitter, self-inflicted irony that had Toby been practising and learning how to use my magic all these years, by now he would have no in difficulty healing her completely." Jareth wove his fingers together in order to resist hitting the wall again.

It took less than an hour to fly to Rochester, and when the touched down, the jet made a short taxi over to a waiting helicopter. The chopper took them to the heli-pad at the hospital, where they were escorted inside to Jennie's room with a conspicuous lack of red tape.

Jennie was a shadow of her former self. She was ghostly pale and her eyes had sunk into her skull. She was thinner, but the cancer was ravaging her body too quickly for her to lose much weight. Her breathing was little more than a rattling wheeze. She had an oxygen tube in her nose, and was hooked up to a number of monitors that beeped quietly. The room was filled with beautiful bouquets that seemed to be trying to chase her death away with their cheerfulness. Sarah ran to her side, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Don't be sad, Sarah," Jennie consoled her, "this is the fate I chose. I go to meet it with courage and dignity." Jennie smiled far too happily than a dying woman ought to. She turned to Jareth. "I can hold the Gateway closed no longer. The Queen of cups has not forgotten your wager, though, and was most unhappy that Toby deprived her of the Labyrinth, especially the Pathmaker. Toby has already shown he is powerful enough to defend himself against her, but she will stop at nothing to have her revenge on you, and will not let a few humans stand in her way. It will take some time for the family to find a Gatekeeper to replace me, during which everyone between you and Lady Mizuno will be in terrible danger. Jareth, I ask one last thing of you."

"Anything," Jareth told her, standing at the opposite side of the bed.

"Give me your oath: I want you to do everything in your power to protect this world for the Queen of Cups' wrath for as long as she remains a threat to them."

"I swear to you I will do everything in my power to protect this world from Lady Mizuno and her minions, for as long as they remain a threat to them," Jareth promised without hesitation.

"I bind you to your word. And with that oath I return to you the magic I took." Jennie took Jareth's hand, and Sarah saw a crackling of energy pass between them. Jennie sighed so peacefully that Sarah feared she would die right then and there. But the EKG continued to beep to the rhythm of her heart, and seemed to actually show a stronger pulse. "The Gateway is now open," Jennie announced.

Jareth knelt down next to Jennie and smoothed her brow. A gentle glow started where he touched her and spread to the rest of her body. When the glow faded, Jennie's complexion had regained most of its colour and her breathing returned to normal. She sat up.

"Jareth, what are you doing; don't waste what little magic you have left trying to-"

But Jareth wasn't listening. He spoke over her. "I wish the goblins would take you away, _right now_." He placed his hand on her head again, and Jennie fell back onto the bed, apparently asleep. Then, the lights flickered, and Jennie was gone.

"What the hell are you doing??!" Sarah practically shrieked.

"Buying Jennie more time." Jareth shook his head, and his hair was restored to the mad style he preferred to sport. He tugged at his sleeve and his outfit transformed, as well.

"What for? To keep her alive and so the Gatekeepers won't send a replacement that can actually make you behave?"

"Do you know how many people are incarcerated in this country, Sarah?"

"No, nor do I see what that has to do with anything."

"Two million. If I can get even a tenth of them in for donor testing, there will be dozens of matches. I may no longer have the power to heal her completely, but I healed her enough that she'll be strong enough for a marrow transplant, and the Labyrinth will ensure she stays that way until I find her the perfect donor."

"I don't believe you," Sarah told him flatly.

Just then, Mike arrived. He became greatly alarmed when he saw the empty bed where Jennie should have been. "Where's Jennie?!"

Jareth began to raise his hand, but Sarah stepped in front of him the moment he started. "Don't. you. _dare_."

"Humans get so alarmed when someone vanishes nowadays. I don't have time for their silly questions."

Mike looked at Jareth seriously. "Jareth, you're talking crazy. C'mon, take a deep breath, clear you head and tell me what happened to Jennie."

"Jareth wished her away. Don't worry; we can get her back in no time," Sarah assured him.

"Bringing her back here would be a death sentence," Jareth countered.

"And as long as she lives, the Key stays with her; and while she's asleep in the castle beyond the Goblin City, there's no one to stop you. No one besides me that is."

Jareth took a step towards Sarah, but took a gingerly step back as he came up against something that crackled with red energy. "A counterspell!"

"A very powerful one, courtesy of the Head Gatekeeper. I'm not some starry-eyed fifteen-year-old anymore, not am I a bewitched and befuddled woman with half her soul carved out." Jareth's face fell at this declaration. "I've learned a lot about fae in the last four years, and believe me when I say that if you try to pull anything funny, I will do things that will make an eternity of bathing in the Bog of Eternal Stench seem like a pleasure."

"Sarah, I am trying to _save_ Jennie. I am bound by the oath I made to her. If she doesn't recover and release me from it, I'll spend eternity as a shade trying to fulfill it. I made connections while I was in prison; I assure you it won't take me long to find a donor."

Sarah seemed somewhat less skeptical. "Six weeks. I'll give you six weeks to find a donor for Jennie."

"Done."

"Swear to me the sleeping spell you put on Jennie will break in six weeks, and you won't do anything more to prevent her from returning."

Jareth seemed reluctant.

"Otherwise I go and get her right now. Toby can take me right to the castle, and Mike should have no trouble waking Jennie up."

Jareth sighed. "Very well." They shook on it. "Now, I must be going; my oaths will not fulfill themselves." Jareth walked casually out of the hospital room.

"Hey, wait," Mike called, chasing after him. He stopped dead in the hallway. "What the hell – where did he go?! And why does he look like an '80's rock star?"

"Back to Iowa, hopefully. As for his look, well, it was the eighties when I met him, but he's probably been wearing it for 1300 years."

Mike looked at Sarah as if she was a lunatic for a moment. But relented. "What's in Iowa?"

"The gateway to the Underground."

"You're not talking about a subway, are you?"

Sarah shook her head. "If you come with me, I'll explain everything."


	9. Back home

It was a fairly short train ride back to Sarah's home town; a place she had sworn she would never return to after Gavin MacLellan's funeral. Jareth had still been in prison then, so Sarah hadn't minded coming back. Jennie had needed the company, anyway; Jareth was right about Jennie being lonely. Sarah called Toby, who had been as ignorant as she about Jennie's illness. Fortunately, he had been alone when the Gateway had been opened, and hadn't needed to explain the shock of the Goblin King's power flooding back into his body to anyone. He was having a very difficult time avoiding wishing for things, as the magic obeyed his every whim, and it was hard to explain why everything he wanted would suddenly materialize. She warned him about the Queen of Cups, and Toby assured her he'd keep a watchful eye out (with the help of a few goblins).

Next, Sarah told Mike everything she knew about Jareth, and explained some of what she knew about the Gatekeepers, too. Mike seemed incredulous, but Sarah was patient and didn't mind going over parts again in more detail. After she was done telling him, she sat back to let it all sink in.

"Well, I can understand why you hate Jareth so much."

"I don't hate him. I'm trying very hard to let go of everything he did for my own sake. But I do get angry when he starts using magic to mess with peoples' lives. I don't think anyone can fault me for that."

"Fair enough. And thank you for offering to bring me along to get Jennie back. I feel like an outsider in all this, and it's hard to know how much to be involved. Probably less than I'd like."

Sarah smiled. "You're welcome, but it would actually be essential that you come, since we needed to wake her up."

"I don't understand..."

"Jareth put Jennie under a spell; just like in a fairytale."

Mike grinned sheepishly, "aw, c'mon, you can't tell me..." he rubbed his hands together self-consciously.

"Yeah, I don't think we'd need a prince to wake her up, but True Love's Kiss is actually quite reliable for stuff like that."

Mike continued to grin sheepishly, and his cheeks got a pink tinge to them.

Sarah saw Mike to a hotel, then headed for the Williamses. Irene greeted her at the door.

"Hello, Sarah! So nice of you to finally come home for a visit. I'm sorry it couldn't be under happier circumstances. How is Jennifer doing?"

"I think she's stable; they're looking for a donor."

"Well, that's a relief. I was so worried when I hear that awful Mr. Quinn was seeing to her care. I don't even like him coming into town. I could never understand why she remained friends with him. Oh, but come in, dear! We're glad to see you."

"I wasn't about to go all the way to New York City and not swing by," Sarah lied. "Irene, is Toby around?"

"He's in his room. All this craziness with Julliard has been a little too much for him, I think."

"Mind if I go see if he feels like talking to me?"

"Not at all!" Irene gestured upstairs. "I have to run some errands, and your father should be home later. Will you stay for dinner?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Sarah climbed up to Toby's room and knocked on the door. "Toby? It's Sarah."

Toby cracked the door and gestured her in.

Sarah nearly burst out laughing when she saw Toby's hair. He'd plastered it with so much hair fixative he looked like he'd greased it down with Pomade. "What's with the hair?" she asked, trying desperately not to laugh.

Toby scowled and ruffled his hair with his fingers. Normally, this just made it rumpled, but now, Sarah could almost hear it go "poof." It stuck out with body most people could only achieve with an entire can of Aquanet.

"I look like a blonde Liza Minnelli!" Toby groaned. "If I can't get my hair to behave, the only thing I'll be auditioning for is and off, off _off_-Boardway production of South Pacific!"

"We'll figure something out," Sarah reassured him, though she wasn't sure how.

"I wouldn't mind so much if I could think of something to tell mom and dad besides 'I'm trying out for a hair band.' Thinking about how to tame it helps me not think about... going someplace." Toby was obviously being careful about going back to the Labyrinth, wise, since the Goblin King was only supposed to leave when summoned. "I don't even dare use the mirror," he hitched a thumb behind himself. Sarah had given the mirror to Toby when she had moved to England. As much as she wanted to talk to Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Diddymus, it was more important that Toby talk to Spittledrum and monitor the war. The Queen of Cups still launched regular attacks and Toby's guidance had repelled Morraine's armies for four years. Toby had convinced his mother that he used the mirror to practise lines. "You wanna use it?" he asked casually.

Sarah eagerly slid into the chair and called on her friends.

"Milady, your presence, as always, gladdens my heart, though I cannot help but wonder what would bring you to break your oath never to return," Diddymus questioned in earnest.

"I never swore I wouldn't return, that was merely my intention," Sarah corrected. She had learned a few things about oaths since leaving, and most creatures took them very seriously. High fae, such as the Goblin King and Queen of Cups, for instance, were physically incapable of breaking such an oath. Humans could, of course, but breaking an oath made to a fae was generally bad for one's health (but then, so was making them in the first place, especially since they tended to prove impossible to keep). Since Jennie had made Jareth swear to protect humans with all the power he possessed, the fairy magic he had stolen to become Goblin King _should_ bind him to keep his word. She hoped.

"Jareth provoked me into confronting him. He says he did it to tell me Jennie was sick..."

"Keeper sick...Ludo sad."

"Is the Gatekeeper all right?" Hoggle asked

"Didn't you know; Jareth wished her there," Sarah told them.

"An oddly foolish thing to do; the Gatekeeper passes between worlds as easily as a ship passes through water. She would return in an instant."

"Except she's asleep. She won't be going anywhere for a while."

"That rat ain't never gonna change," Hoggle grumbled.

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Sarah smiled grimly. "But it's hard not to hope there's a chance Jennie could get better. I don't suppose any of you have seen Jareth there, have you?"

"His presence at the castle would surely not go unnoticed, milady. I do not believe he has set foot in the Labyrinth since he declared Toby his heir, and made a hasty departure."

"Rocks not see him," Ludo confirmed.

"There's something else you should know, though," Hoggle began, "Queen Drip was rainin' down on the Goblin City something fierce earlier today, then all of a sudden, the attack just stopped. We figure something's happened topside."

"Jennie opened the Gateway, she said she couldn't keep it shut any longer."

"I'd watch yer valuables, then. Pleny of goblins have a four-year case of cabin fever."

Toby heard that and summoned Spittledrum. "Spittledrum, I need to you restrict access to the world above," he instructed him. "The way is open now, but if too many goblins come up, they're bound to get noticed."

"It wouldn't do to have half our armies desert when there's a war going on. I'll see to it."

Sarah continued to be impressed with Toby's skill in leading the goblins. The few short hours he managed to steal in front of the mirror was all that kept the Queen of Cups at bay. She had told him so several times over the years, but he shrugged off her compliments and gave Spittledrum most of the credit. Spittledrum, for his part, saw the ability in Jareth's chosen protégé, and knew that his own role would be unneeded if Toby ever chose to occupy the throne properly, and so went to great pains to accommodate Toby's long-distance reign. It seemed to work best for everyone.

Sarah and Toby finally decided to blame his sudden, wild hair on atmospheric irregularities. Toby had seriously threatened to give himself a buzz-cut, but Sarah convinced him his hair would still stick out, and he'd just look like a pixie instead of a fae prince.

Linda was delighted to have the whole family together for dinner and made twice as much food as the four of them could possibly eat. Sarah regaled them with stories of the theatre scene in London and her latest round of critical acclaims.

After dinner, Sarah went out to pick up a few things. She had left her luggage in New York, being too shocked to think about getting it when she had left for Minnesota with Jareth. Toby went with her, offering to wish her bag here and her room in New-York un-reserved. She refused vehemently.

They ran into Mike at the drug store, who had been caught similarly unprepared. Sarah introduced him to her brother.

"It's a pleasure," Mike said as they exited the store, "Broadway's been abuzz with news of your Julliard audition. Producers are already starting to circle, and I hope you'll consider Fae-Muse Inc-"

Sarah cleared her throat to interrupt Mike's spiel. "Did I mention that restraining order? We're pushing to have it extended past when Toby turns 21."

"Or not." Mike smiled apologetically.

"Yeah well, we'll see how impressed everyone is once Jareth isn't blackmailing them," Toby countered sceptically.

"Toby, let me share with you one of the great truths of show business: any press is good press. You need to be in peoples' thoughts if you want to keep working. So drag your personal drama into the spotlight whenever possible, to ensure you have regular drama on stage. But even so, the stuff I've heard is really sincere; I think you've got real talent! Maybe you can do a quick short of me sometime."

Toby grinned an impish grin and recited some of Puck's lines from a Midsummer Night's Dream;

"_Through the forest have I gone.  
But Athenian found I none,  
On whose eyes I might approve  
This flower's force in stirring love.  
Night and silence.--Who is here?  
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:  
This is he, my master said,  
Despised the Athenian maid;  
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,  
On the dank and dirty ground.  
Pretty soul! she durst not lie  
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.  
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw  
All the power this charm doth owe.  
When thou wakest, let love forbid  
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:  
So awake when I am gone;  
For I must now to Oberon."_

His spritely moves (and impossibly poofy hair) reminded Mike of Jareth so much he would have sworn they were father and son. He didn't dare say so, though, especially with the disapproving look Sarah gave the boy.

"Sarah doesn't like me playing fairies," Toby explained apologetically.

"I think I can see why." Word had it Sarah Williams flat out refused to play Titania. It seemed she was less forgiving of the nasty tricks the Goblin King had played on her than the Queen of the Night was of her husband, and no doubt wanted to avoid the parallels that could be drawn between the two.

Toby's head suddenly turned as something Mike couldn't see caught his attention. "Watch out," Toby warned, standing before them protectively.

At first, Mike thought it was a sewer backing up; water jetted up from the ground. But as he watched, the water grew limbs and a head. The head growled at them menacingly and leapt at them without further warning. It splashed against a tower shield that wasn't there a moment ago. Toby grunted at the force of the impact, then made the shield vanish as quickly as hit had appeared, allowing him full view of their aggressor.

"Go back to your master!" Toby ordered with more power than he felt.

The creature drew its limbs back into its body and shot at Sarah as a stream of water with a head full of teeth. Toby tried to stop it, but it flowed around him. Sarah drove something into the creature and it let out a horrifying, agonized scream. It fell as plain water as it dropped to the ground, but the liquid that ran down Sarah's right hand sizzled and turned to steam as soon as it came into contact with a small dagger she held.

"It went straight for you!" Toby told her in alarm.

"Yeah; guess I'm still at the top of Mizuno's list."

"That is one _psycho _ex!" Mike announced as he stared at the puddles in horror. But Sarah wasn't listening; she was giving an owl perched nearby a withering look.

Toby saw where she was looking and suddenly seemed to want to be anywhere but there. "Sarah, is it ok if I take off?"

"Go," Sarah nodded.

"I'll see you back at the house." Toby closed his eyes in concentration and vanished.

Sarah looked back at the bird. "The Queen of Cups sends her regards," she said, gesturing to the puddles.

The owl flew down and Mike gaped as it transformed into Jareth. "I was trying to lead it away."

"Yeah; great job," Sarah told him flatly. "See this, this is exactly why I don't like going anywhere near you," she told him, gesturing to the water and back to him. He jumped back as she pointed the dagger at him.

"That's an iron knife; you killed it!" Jareth was scandalized.

"You're damn right I did."

"Are you in the habit of carrying around iron weapons?" Jareth asked, still eyeing the blade nervously.

"I've met a lot more fae since I left, and I've seen firsthand how dangerous they can be. The Gatekeepers gave this to me and Jennie wisely counselled that I keep it with me at all times. But it shouldn't worry you, you're mortal now; you need to watch out for things like bullets aimed at your head." Sarah's cold tone told them she wouldn't be disinclined to send one his way.

"I'd be careful around your brother. He may not even realize the danger; his skills are far rougher than I expected," Jareth frowned thoughtfully.

"Just stay away from him," Sarah repeated again, but she sheathed her dagger and buckled it in with two leather straps.

"The oath I am bound to is more powerful than the laws of men, Sarah. And even if I were not bound, nothing could compel me to ignore such a threat to your safety."

"Well, as you can see, I can take care of myself. In fact, my life tends to run a lot more smoothly when you're not in it. So if you'll excuse me, I urgently need to be somewhere away from you. Nice to see you again, Mike," she bade Mike a polite goodbye.

Sarah turned and left without looking back, so she didn't see the expression of intense longing Jareth gazed after her with.

Mike shook his head. "You got it bad, man. This has gotta be hell for you."

Jareth shot Mike a subtle, disdainful glance that made it clear his opinion was not welcome.

"Sorry; forget I said anything." Mike began to retreat as well.

"Wait; come back." Jareth called. Mike turned around. "I'm to blame for dragging out into this, and I should be grateful you offer me your sympathy instead of being angry for turning yet another person's life upside-down." Jareth cast a regretful look in the direction Sarah had taken.

Mike shrugged. "It's my nature."

"It's difficult for you to have your loyalties divided," Jareth acknowledged. "You should go back to New York; there's nothing you can do here."

"Are you kidding me? I'm not going to sit in my office while I know a battle of mythic proportions is going on here! Terrifying as that creature was, this is still the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me! Besides, I think you need a friend right now."

Jareth clapped Mike on the shoulder amiably. "Then I insist you come and stay at the Manor as my guest."


	10. temptation

Sarah discovered when she got home that a porter had been there to drop off her bags. It irritated her that Jareth had seen to that. Irene and her father were waiting with anxious questions when she arrived; Toby had told them someone had tried to jump her in the parking lot, and that she'd been detained while she made a report with the police. Irene was horrified that something like that could happen here. She made vague allusions to Jareth driving up the crime rate, winning her a few brownie points with Sarah.

Toby waited for an opportunity to speak to Sarah privately. "I'm placing guards at every known entrance to the Underground," he assured her.

"There's no point; spreading the goblin army that thin will make it too vulnerable, as you know perfectly well," Sarah reproached. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

"Fine; but I'm keeping the guards I've posted at the mirror." Sarah glanced at it and found four very big, tough-looking goblins holding mops and buckets menacingly. They bowed their heads to her respectfully. "And I'm keeping a guard contingent on you at all times –no argument!" A number of small goblins flicked in the periphery of Sarah's field of vision as they saluted Toby, and then quickly returned to their hiding places.

Sarah pressed her lips together, considering what Jareth had told her. She carefully withdrew the dagger. Her escort gasped as one.

"An iron dagger, is she crazy?!"

"She'll kill us all!"

She exposed half an inch of the blade and offered it to Toby. "Touch the middle, not the edges. Be very careful not to cut yourself."

Toby frowned. He reached out for the knife but didn't get more than a few inches from it when he withdrew his hand as if he had gotten too close to something very hot. "I can't; just getting close to it gives me the creeps. Are you sure it's iron and not, like, uranium?"

Sarah sheathed the dagger once again. "It might as well be, for a magical creature. Even fae, who are otherwise immortal, can be killed with an iron weapon." She pressed her lips in a grim line again. "And you, too, by the look of things."

"That's crazy! There's iron in my body, as mom keeps worrying about how much I'm eating," Toby countered.

"This is Cold Iron, and it's a little different. It's not chemically bonded to another element, and I think that makes a difference. See, most weapons are made of steel, since it's much stronger and doesn't rust as quickly, but even the best-made Japanese katana wouldn't be much of a threat against someone like the Queen of Cups. She wouldn't get to close to this, though" Sarah patted her dagger. "It will keep her and her minions at bay, but the downside is that it's just as much of a danger to you and the goblins."

"Put it away!"

"_Throw _it away!"

"No, don't do that, what if it ends up in the Labyrinth?"

"Feed it to a dog!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "No, I'm keeping it. I promise to only use it against my enemies, and only as a last resort, but I won't give up my best defence against the creatures of Morraine."

The goblins whispered amongst themselves in agitated voices, but didn't argue further.

"So no goblin should get within twenty paces of me."

"Deal!" every goblin in earshot agreed without hesitation.

"And no goblins allowed in my room or the bathroom."

This caused some confused murmurs, but Sarah reached for the blade again and the Goblins all squealed "DEAL!!" again.

"Good. Now, I'll see you in the morning; this has been a very, very long day."

* * *

James, or Switchblade Jimmy, as he was usually known, was king of his particular hill. That hill being the Illinois State Penitentiary. He ruled the inmates there without question. Right now, he was enjoying one of the many perks that came with his position: privacy. Or at least, he should be. He looked up from the book he had been reading when someone cleared their throat. He flashed the intruder a look to tell them they would be dead before they could run, but his expression changed to alarm when he saw the man standing in front of him.

"What the fuck, Jareth? I thought you got out!" Jimmy waved out the bodyguards who had been guarding the door. They retreated hastily when they recognized Jareth.

"I did; hence my lack of prison chic orange." Jareth indicated his outfit, a sleek business suit.

"You look Wall Street."

Jareth cringed. "I've been trying to stay away from criminal elements since my release. You couldn't catch me near the place."

"Funny you would say that, seeing who you're talking to," Jimmy countered irritably.

"A matter of necessity; I've come to collect your debt."

Jimmy paled. "You appear like magic, wearin' sleek clothes and talkin' deals. You sure you ain't the devil?"

Jareth gave a short laugh. "It would make life much easier if I were. And I doubt Lucifer would waste time making deals with people he already owns." He shook his head. "You Americans are so dichotomized; things are either good or evil, be they gods, politicians or brands of soap! In reality, things are rarely so straightforward." This clinical analysis lent itself to Jimmy's impression that Jareth wasn't quite human. He repressed a shiver.

"What you want?"

"I want you to get every inmate in the state tested."

"For what, their GED?" they both burst out laughing.

"No; the sort of test you can't fail: a blood test. I'll have all the details sent to the warden: you need only ensure the inmates' cooperation."

"That sounds too easy."

"It isn't; when I say I want you to get every inmate tested, I mean _all of them._ Minimum-security, maxiumum-security, mental patient, black, white, latino, aboriginal: everyone. Should even one refuse, I will consider this deal forfeit and your debt unpaid. On the other hand, if you manage to get inmates from out-of-state, in addition to everyone here, I will be very pleased, and in a very generous mood. So, what do you say; do we have a deal?" Jareth extended a hand tipped with long, claw-like fingernails.

Some guys were like wolves or sharks, but Jareth was a leopard: he hid his fangs and claws under a beautiful, soft coat. Jimmy had an uncharacteristic moment, when he remembered a poem by Christopher Okibo that someone had shown them all for Black History month one year;

_Gentle hunter. _

_His tail plays on the ground,_

_while he crushes the skull. _

_Beautiful death, _

_who puts on a spotted robe _

_when he goes to his victim. _

_Playful killer, _

_whose loving embrace _

_splits the antelope's heart._

No one knew what Jareth was capable of, though there had been rumours. If Jareth had done anything nasty while he was in prison, he was very careful to leave no trace of it behind; even getting out on good behaviour. But the few guys who had tried to jump him had been so terrified by their experiences that they didn't breathe a word of what had happened, and still woke up screaming, begging him for mercy as he haunted their nightmares. It hadn't taken much to figure out that Jareth was a guy you wanted on your side. Being at the top meant you could also get your underling to test out the new guy, while keeping your hands clean. But like anything in the pen, that 'friendship' had come at a price. Now Jareth had come to collect. If Jimmy backed out, he'd be branded a coward for the rest of his life, and that was a very bad reputation to have when you've been sentenced to life in prison.

Jimmy took the offered hand as if he were saying hello to his best buddy after being away for a very long time. He ignored the chills that raced down his spine. "Deal."

"I'll hold you to that," Jareth shook a translucent finger at him before fading to nothing. "Oh, and you have three weeks," his disembodied voice informed him.

Jimmy howled at the place Jareth had been, letting out a sting of invectives that nearly landed him in solitary pending a psychological assessment.

* * *

They say that if you throw a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will jump right back out, but if you put it in a pot of cool water, and slowly turn up the heat, it will happily sit there until it is boiled alive. Sarah was pretty sure Jareth knew that old adage. She hadn't noticed at first; he was around a lot. Understandable, since the Queen of Cups was making every attempt to kill Sarah. Then he was around more, as Toby acknowledged he needed Jareth's help in controlling and using the Goblin King's magic, and Sarah insisted this be done under her supervision. He would pass by her just close enough that their clothes would brush against each other. Then, he would place a hand on her shoulder, lightly. But Sarah wasn't a frog, and the day he placed both hands on her shoulders, she finally realized what his game was. She whirled around to confront him, only to see unabashed bedroom eyes gazing back at her. Determined to keep things PG around her brother (even if he was 19), she didn't call him on it, but simply banished him to the other side of the room.

But Jareth had gotten his foot in the door, and the both knew it. When Toby was around, Jareth dropped salacious hints that most people who had never read a bodice-ripper would not quite understand (including, thankfully, Toby).

Toby, meanwhile, had developed a state of neutrality in the whole affair that probably made him eligible for some Swiss award of valour. He tried to deafen himself to Jareth's advances, trusting his sister to handle herself, and constraining his comments to polite reminders that Jareth was supposed to be teaching him to use the magic he had inherited, not macking on Sarah.

When they were alone (or, more often had no one but her goblin guard around), Jareth made graphic suggestions of what they might do. Her refusals were firm and immediate, but Jareth was relentless. It didn't help that it had been a while since the last time Sarah had gotten any…male attention.

The London theatre dating scene was quite inbred, and "branching out" usually meant dating someone from the food service industry; chefs and servers being some of the few people who had time off when actors did. Tattoos, chain-smoking and salty language were common among the London food-service folk, three of Sarah's biggest turn-offs, so she avoided them.

And so, Sarah had been single for over a year. Compounding this was the fact that Sarah had a very vivid imagination, and no one knew that better than Jareth. His whispered promises filled her head with erotic fantasies that overflowed into her dreams almost every night. That…_frustration_ seriously weakened Sarah's position in the game of chicken Jareth had engaged her in.

Sarah wasn't sure whether she should be ashamed or proud that she held out for five whole weeks against his relentless attentions. The tension in the air was palpable, and even the Queen of Cups seemed to know that time was almost up: she sent every minion she could spare against Sarah in one final, desperate attack. It was a furious battle, and Sarah and Jareth ended up fighting back-to-back while her little goblin bodyguards harassed their ranks from the outside. When the beasts finally stopped coming, Sarah leaned on her knees and gasped for breath, too tired to care that she was drenched and bleeding.

"You're hurt," Jareth told her with more concern than she liked.

Still gasping for air, she slowly looked up at him, and then down at the arm he was looking at. There was a long gash in it. "Jus' a scratch," she puffed. Bastard wasn't even winded. Aside for the fact that he was just as soaked as she, you'd never know he'd just killed several dozen water creatures. He didn't even look _ruffled, _let alone_ injured!_

"I beg to differ," he countered as he came to her good side and gently lifted her uninjured arm over his shoulders. He bent down so that she wasn't too strained while he supported her. "I insist you let me tend to it." Sarah was too tired to argue, but alarm bells immediately went off, as she discovered they were now inside MacLellan Manor. With what appeared to be a single movement, he lowered her into an easy chair while placing his jacket under her injured arm to protect the expensive upholstery. For the life of her, Sarah could not figure out how he'd managed to _remove _his jacket during all of this, but it was definitely a bad sign that he _could_.

He left her and returned shortly with a first-aid kit Sarah recognized from several childhood misadventures while playing with Jennie. He carefully cleaned the wound and bandaged it so gently Sarah actually shivered once or twice. When he was done, Jareth checked her over for more injuries. His eyes stopper right at her chest. It was only then Sarah realized her white shirt and nude bra were both completely soaked through, leaving little to the imagination. Her face was suddenly hot.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, which was still wild despite being as wet as the rest of them, and his eyes snapped up to look into hers. Before she had time to think, she had pulled him into a rough kiss. Jareth slipped a hand behind her, under her shirt, into the small of her back and lifted her to her feet, pressing her body to his.

They had changed locales again, and were now in a bedroom. If there were an Olympic sport for undressing, Jareth would be the gold medallist for the last ten years, and probably just set a new world record while stripping them _both._

He then proceeded to do items 1 through 37 on the list of lascivious suggestions he had accrued over the last several weeks, starting with laying her down on the bed, kneeling down and doing things with his tongue that made her eyes roll back while she lost the ability to form words.

Sarah quickly discovered he hadn't lied about a damn thing. Not. A. thing. Jareth didn't stop until Sarah waved in surrender. _Now, _at least, he was breathless. He collected her up in his arms and kissed her tenderly on the head as the exhaustion of their battle and post-battle victory celebration caught up with her. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she thought she heard him say, "I love you…"


	11. Or not

"_I love you…"_

Sarah awoke with a jolt, and discovered the sun pouring in through the window. She shut her eyes against the sudden brightness. Jareth stirred. He was still holding her. The previous night came rushing back, making her jump out of bed. She hastily grabbed her clothes and gave Jareth's stripping time a run for its money as she raced to get dressed. Sleepily, Jareth reached out for her. He became fully awake when she recoiled from his touch. He looked up, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What's troubling you?"

"I made a very, VERY stupid mistake last night," she said, continuing to dress furiously.

"I have no complaints," he teased, flashing a wicked smile.

But Sarah was _not _in the mood. She finished throwing on her clothes, grabbed her shoes and stormed out of the room.

Jareth grabbed a pair of pants that adhered to only the vaguest concepts of modesty and chased her out into the hall. "Can we talk about this?"

"No," she answered, not slowing down.

"Sarah," he grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. "I meant what I said."

_As if that made everything better!! _Sarah let him have it. "When I was sixteen years old, you took a piece of my soul. You violated me in a way human law can't even begin to define, at an age where I wasn't even considered an adult. I lived half a life for so long that I damn near developed a split personality once I was whole again. I _still _have nightmares about being locked in a tower! _And you call that love??!!_" She turned and started walking again. Why did this house have to be so big??

His face fell at that. "Sarah, there isn't a moment that goes by where I don't regret what I did. If I still had the power, I would undo it-"

"This is _REAL LIFE, Jareth_, you can't just wave your hand and magic away your screw-ups!"

"Then let me make things right with you! All I ask is a chance!"

She'd gotten to the front door. As she jammed her shoes on her feet, she shot him a look that could freeze the air solid. "You had thirteen years to make things right. It's too late now."

"Sarah," he pleaded, but she slammed the door behind her.

Sarah flat-out _ran _from the Manor. She held tight to her anger in an effort not to think about the night before. Don't think about his lips, his hands, his beautifully slender body… his –Goddamnit! The man was a walking Heart Attack Special; incredibly bad for her and yet still looking delicious. And now he had the honour of being the catalyst for what was hands-down the stupidest thing she'd ever done in her life, stupider than every alcohol-fuelled college indiscretion _combined_, and she'd done it completely sober! Done _him…_

Argh! Sarah was now more than twice the age she'd been when they'd met; how the hell was he still managing to turn her world upside-down like this? Three little words did _not_ make everything better. He was still a baby-snatching, soul-stealing psychopath, and as soon as Jennie was out of danger, she was hopping on the first flight back to London. And, once safely back there, she was going to have a long, serious talk with her father, brother and stepmother about the many, many benefits of emigrating.

* * *

Jareth quietly pounded a fist against the door, sighing. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Not feeling any better, he quietly put on the boots sitting for him next to the door. Then, he charged into the kitchen and kicked a hole in the island. He howled and pounded his fists in a furious rage against the marble counter-top until it cracked. He slammed down on it a few more times before finally slumping to the floor in a numb stupor.

Eventually, he sighed and collected himself. "You can come out now."

Mike poked a tentative head around the edge of the doorway. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, eyeing the damage to Jennie's kitchen in alarm.

Jareth waved a hand and the destroyed island was as good as new. "It's not the first time I've done that," Jareth shrugged. "And I am the farthest thing from 'okay.'"

Mike clutched Jareth's shoulder to comfort him, but said nothing more. He got up and went over to the liquor cabinet. He came back with a glass of scotch which he offered to Jareth. Jareth accepted gratefully and slugged it back. He put the glass down on the floor and leaned is head back, looking up at the ceiling. "That woman will be the death of me."

Mike didn't answer. Jareth noticed Mike wasn't looking at him.

"What?"

"Uh…maybe you should check yourself out in a mirror," Mike suggested diplomatically.

Jareth retreated upstairs. The sight of himself in the bathroom mirror would have been downright comical in another situation: the pants he had hastily thrown had slipped so low, the sight of him would have made an octogenarian madam blush. And he was covered in scratches. He felt a pang as he fingered one of the abrasions Sarah's nails had made during the previous night's exploits, torn between the delightful memory of how he'd gotten them, and the terrible feeling of never being that close to her again. Never before had a man looked so sexy and so pathetic at the same time. The combination would probably have proven irresistible to any woman within sight of him.

That thought cheered him. He gave his reflection one of his best irresistible smirks, and began to wash up. Maybe he couldn't make things perfect with Sarah, maybe he couldn't even make things right, but he was bound and determined to show her he wasn't a monster, and to leave things on a high note. He'd keep himself busy for the rest of the day, and bring Sarah the fruits of his labour. He would keep his promises, to everyone.

* * *

Roger opened the door and silenced the anxious knocking.

"We got a match!" the younger man waiting there announced as soon as the door was opened.

"Uh…" Roger raised his eyebrow at the man.

Sarah poked her head over the door as she widened the crack. "Mike! Hi! Dad, this is Jennie's boyfriend, Mike."

"Sarah, we got a match!"

"For Jennie -you found a donor?"

"Yes! A perfect, perfect match! They're setting everything up right now; they just need to get her started on chemo, and they'll do the bone marrow transplant as soon as she's ready."

"That's great news, Mike!" Sarah said, hugging the ecstatic Mike and looking a bit teary-eyed.

Mike held out his hands in an urging gesture. "Well, aren't we going to go get her?"

"Oh!" Sarah glanced at her father anxiously. "Oh, yes, we should all be together when we let her know," she declared a bit stiffly. "Let me go tell Irene and Toby," she disappeared back into the house.

She reappeared after a few minutes, followed by Toby. The boy looked nervous. "I can send you guys there, but I'm not sure about getting you back again," he explained apologetically.

"That's OK; Jennie should be able to do that no problem," Mike assured him.

"I can get you straight into the castle, but Jareth is probably keeping her in one of the towers, and I don't know the castle that well. Skub will guide you once you're inside."

Sarah nodded. "We're ready."


	12. Though the castle

"Right;" Toby looked around. "Though there," he pointed to two tree trunks fused at the bottom. Beyond them, Sarah could make out orange light that didn't fit with the time of day. She beckoned Mike towards the makeshift doorway.

Mike gave the portal a dubious look. Sarah went through first, to show him it was safe.

"Ugh!" he said once he was on the other side, "is this the galley?"

Sarah giggled. The room they were in was filthy; littered with empty barrels of ale, dirty rags and feathers. It looked almost exactly as Sarah had remembered, and Sarah suspected the room had been untouched for at nearly two decades. "It's the throne room," she explained, pointing to the throne.

"Greetings, Lady Sarah," Sarah jumped as a diminutive goblin she hadn't even noticed greeted and bowed to her deeply. "King Toby instructed Skub to show you to the room where Gatekeeper sleeps."

"Yeah, where is he…she…it?" Mike asked.

The little goblin gave Sarah a pained look. "That's Skub," Sarah told him. Skub bowed deeply again.

"Skub is King Toby's personal chef. When king Toby returns, Skub will show him the many human foods he has mastered. Skub cannot wait for King Toby to taste his calzone!"

"Can you show us where the Gatekeeper is sleeping?" Sarah asked, trying not to imagine what the goblin equivalent of a calzone would be.

"Yes! Please follow!"

"Halt!" a little voice barked. "I shall not let you proceed… unless you allow me to accompany you."

"Sir Diddymus!" Sarah smiled in delight.

"Lady Sarah, you become ever more a lady with each passing year," he took off his hat and bowed deeply.

"Sir Diddymus, this is Mike. Mike, this is my old friend, Sir Diddymus."

"Well met, sir," Sir Diddymus gave Mike a quick bow rather than accept the offered hand. "And what, may I ask, has brought you to the castle beyond the Goblin City this fine day?" Sir Diddymus seemed to be addressing Mike more than Sarah.

"Well, y'see…" Mike began bashfully.

"We're here to bring back the Gatekeeper. We need Mike to break the spell Jareth cast on her," Sarah explained.

"By means of true love's kiss?" Sarah and Mike nodded. "Then it is the Gatekeeper's heart thou seekest," it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Mike answered anyway; "yes," he said without hesitation.

"Stand down men, unset the traps!" the little fox goblin barked.

With considerable grumbling, goblins materialized from every direction.

"What's this all about?" Sarah asked, apprehension creeping into her voice.

"The former king gave orders long ago that, should you ever enter the labyrinth in the company of a man not himself or your brother, that that man was to be considered an enemy and attacked at once."

"You were going to attack me?!" Mike asked, distressed.

"Thank you for not following those particular orders," Sarah cut in, trying to rein in both her and Mike's temper.

"The spirit of his command was clearly that he would not suffer any rivals in your affections, milady. A quest for the hand of another seems quite permissible."

Sarah's eye started to twitch. She changed the subject. "Well, let's get going, shall we?"

Skub led everyone faithfully through the heart of the castle, defying the laws of physics without a second thought. Sarah had been so anxious to get to her brother the last time she'd been here, she hadn't really looked into any of the rooms she'd gone by. That was probably a good thing, she decided, as their contents were bizarre and she ended up staring agog at more than one doorway. No doubt she would have run out of time had she spared them any attention before; maybe it was even designed to do that.

Right now, she was gaping as she watched a couple of lambs doing the backstroke through the air, apparently even less aware of the laws of gravity than Skub. She turned away from them without comment.

As they passed room after totally bizarre room, Mike seemed to be losing his grip on sanity. His expression looked deeply disturbed.

"Take heart, Sir Michael," Sir Diddymus finally offered, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

"Everything in this castle is…just plain wrong," he muttered in a haunted voice.

"Try spending six years locked in a tower," Sarah scoffed.

Mike swallowed, trying to shake the feeling of dread creeping into him. "Let's just fine Jennie and get the hell out of here."

Skub paused, looking back and forth in a puzzled manner.

"Is something wrong, Skub?"

"Castle has changed," Skub answered gravely.

"Changed?" Mike asked, not sounding terribly surprised.

"Indeed, it appears the castle has taken to altering itself once again," Sir Diddymus agreed.

"You mean it stopped?" Sarah asked. She was more surprised that the castle had not changed for any period of time than that it was changing now.

Sir Diddymus gazed a bit sadly at Sarah. "After your victory over the Labyrinth, the castle ceased to move entirely…as if it were sleeping…or dead." He turned to look at the insane stairs going in every direction, and his expression brightened. "But it seems whatever wounds that ailed the castle have now healed. Perhaps it was revived by the return of King Toby's magic to the Labyrinth."

"Skub is sorry, but he can't find the Gatekeeper," the little goblin apologized with mournful eyes.

Sarah knelt down and patted Skub on the shoulder. "That's okay, Skub; you did your best." She stood up and looked around thoughtfully. "Maybe I can figure out where she is…" Sarah said as much to herself as the others. She thought about her brother; he was in control of the Labyrinth now, including the castle, so it would probably do what he wanted, even if he wasn't aware that it would… even if he didn't know what he wanted. Toby liked Jennie. They still spoke now and again, even though they weren't especially close. More importantly, Toby trusted Jennie a great deal. On the other hand, it was Jareth who had sent Jennie away to the castle. And she might be kept where he wished. Or she might be somewhere between the wills of the two sovereigns as they battled for supremacy.

Sarah placed her hand against a nearby wall/floor/ceiling. She closed her eyes and tried to get a sense of things. Then, and idea struck her. "I need to get to Jennie," she told the castle softly. She felt the stones shudder under her fingers. When she looked around, the castle…changed. The change wasn't perceptible, sort of like when the optometrist asked her to tell him when two images were level, and she couldn't exactly see them becoming level, she just suddenly noticed that they were: Sarah suddenly noticed there was a path where she had never seen one before. "That way!" she declared.

The others exchanged a few quick, puzzled glances before following her. Trusting in the castle's magic, she followed the twists and turns that should have sent her plummeting to her death. The others followed, Mike focusing on staying close behind her, so he didn't think about his completely screwed-up sense of orientation.

They came to a room that was decidedly out of a fairy tale. Jennie lay on a canopy bed with heavy curtains and sheers beneath the drawn curtains with encircled the bed. Her hair spread out around the pillow her head rested on, and her hands rested on her chest,clutching a crystal that Sarah was certain ensured she had only sweet dreams as she slept under the magic spell. She bore a happy, peaceful expression. Sarah waved Mike forward.

Screwing up his courage, Mike took a deep breath, and bent over to kiss Jennie. As their lips met, the crystal Jennie held shattered to nothing, and the spell was broken. Jennie's breathing changed and her eyes opened. When she saw Mike above her, she smiled and broke into song.

"_How can you see into my eyes like open doors,_

_leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb_

_without a soul, my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold_

_until you find it there and lead _

_it back home. _

_Wake me up inside! _

_Wake me up inside!_

_Call my name and save me from the dark!_

_Bid my blood to run_

_before I come undone_

_save me from the nothing I've become!_"

She smiled again when she was finished. Sarah hadn't heard Jennie sing since kindergarten; Jennie's voice was incredible, and everyone stood in awe after hearing it. Even the castle seemed to resonate happily upon hearing her beautiful song.

It was Jennie who broke the spell her song had woven. She tossed off the covers of the bed and gingerly swung her legs down. When she rose, she discovered she was still wearing a hospital gown. She sneered at it disdainfully and, with a flick of her wrist, transformed it into comfortable-looking shoes, pants and a top. "Shall we be off?" she asked brightly.

The others followed her, dumbfounded. As they reached the entrance of the room, the dizzying stairs quailed in her presence, contorting themselves into a neat, orderly (and decidedly gravity law-abiding) formations. Jennie whispered something and a needle made of gentle, glowing light appeared in her hand. Sarah finally broke the silence.

"You can do magic?"

Jennie looked at her a bit quizzically. "Of course! How do you think my ancestors kept Jareth in check for three centuries? Stern looks and firm reprimands? HAH! Come this way," she indicated the direction the needle of light pointed.


	13. Evil chickens

Once they were out of the Escher stairs, Jennie waved her hand in a circular motion, allowing them to float back into their impossible structure once again. She looked at the castle with a strange, compassionate expression. "Toby's a good influence on this place," she announced, "otherwise, I doubt the castle would like a Gatekeeper's presence here very much, considering what happened the last time one was here."

"A Gatekeeper has been to the Labyrinth before?" Sarah asked, surprised.

"How do you think that precious book of yours got written?" Jennie asked, her tone a bit chiding. "Charlotte MacLellan was a great many things, but never a fool. It was she who first followed Jareth into the labyrinth, in pursuit of a child he had stolen from the village. But of course, she used her Gatekeeper's magic to pass through the labyrinth, rather than simply her wits. When she got to the centre of the Labyrinth, she used her magic to bind the Goblin King, so that declaring him to have no power over you would undo his spells. And when she returned Aboveground, child in hand, she told everyone who would listen how to defeat him. Her story quickly became legend, and it wasn't more than ten years before it was published. She allowed it, careful to ensure the words that would actually allow a child to be taken were not immortalized in print. Of course, by then, the little village had known ten years of peace, and everyone was happy to let the legend die. Charlotte lived the rest of her life as wife and mother of a prosperous shop family.

Jennie stroked the walls of the castle compassionately once more. "It was a harsh punishment for Jareth, even if it was justly deserved. He grew terribly lonely through the centuries of isolation. He sped up time in his Kingdom, searching for a way to return Aboveground once more. He eventually found it in my father's friendship. He thought he could play his games again. He thought the magic that bound him was dead or forgotten," Jennie turned to look at Sarah, "he was wrong. And it cost him his kingdom."

Sarah looked away guiltily, but Jennie reached out to her.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Sarah," she assured her, "Jareth has no one to blame but himself for his downfall. It was his pride that ruined him."

Jennie continued to follow her magical compass, leading the group not back to the throne room, but into a part of the castle Sarah had never seen before. They entered a hallway made with stone of fine masonry. Hallways with rougher work branched off and no doubt led to the inner workings of the castle. They passed one from which a smell like mouldy cheese wafted, and Sarah had a sneaking suspicion the kitchen lay down that way. Jennie ignored these, her magical compass pointing her steadfastly through the more elegant hallway. Huge doors began to appear here and there. Irresistibly curious, Sarah asked if they could stop and investigate what lay beyond. Jennie shrugged.

"This is Toby's castle now. I doubt he minds if you explore it. He might appreciate knowing what all is here."

Sarah discovered a massive ballroom, a huge dining hall and a dingy library behind the doors she opened. She became increasingly surprised as she made each new discovery; she didn't think goblins would need any rooms like that. The most surprising was the books in the library were written in an angry-looking scrawl that Sarah was forced to assume was the goblins' written language. She had never imagined very many goblins were capable of learning to read, let alone that there would be enough literate goblins to develop some form of writing. Jennie seemed impressed, too.

At last, Jennie made a sharp turn out of the main hallway. They found themselves in front of what looked like the interior of a café; a long room with a counter visible at the far end. On the left was a bulletin board, but the notices on it were nothing more than scribbles. The floor was covered in black and white linoleum tiles.

"The doorway to Aboveground should be on the other side," Jennie declared.

"I have a really bad feeling about this," Mike said warily.

"I'm afraid the only way is forward."

They reluctantly stepped into the room. There were two things they noticed one they were inside, one, object that looked sort of like chess pieces had materialized, and two, that the most evil-looking chicken imaginable (if such a thing was imaginable) was standing opposite them. Mike's eye began to twitch. Jennie knelt down and began to study the "board" in front of them.

"Do you have any idea what you're supposed to do?" Sarah hissed.

"Oddly, yes. I need to beat the chicken. The trouble is, I'm not sure I have enough moves to do that."

"And we need to win to go through?"

"Yep. Guess Jareth put this in to keep people from escaping the Labyrinth without solving it."

"What happens if we lose?"

"Let's hope we don't find out."

The chicken hadn't made a move, so Jennie signalled one of the pieces to move. As it passed over the tiles, they briefly turned green and purple in a plaid pattern, before fading back to black or white.

"By my troth!" Sir Diddymus piped up, "'tis Thirteen Square! It has been so long since I have seen the game played, I had forgotten it entirely!"

"Do you know how to play?" Sarah asked hopefully.

"Indeed, the rules are based upon the Knight's Code, and it employs the same elementary strategies that are part of every knight's training. I daresay that fowl is a skilled player indeed. What ho milady, that's a most ill use of thy squire!"

Jennie accepted Sir Diddymus' guidance, and the evil chicken was thoroughly trounced. It gave a disgusted cluck and shuffled over to let them pass. Jennie paused at the door at the back of the room, grinning mischievously. She pushed against the bar with a flourish, and opened it to reveal a darkened space. She could see a pathway illuminated by small, fanciful street lamps.

"It's the park near my parents' house!" Sarah declared as she walked through the door. "I always thought this place was magical!"

"You probably sensed the magical energies seeping through the Doorway," Jennie explained. She put one foot through the doorway, then paused. "You two had better come along, as well. It will be a lot easier to use one of the doorways Aboveground and go straight back to the Goblin City."

Skub bobbed his head in agreement. "And Skub can see Toby! And cook for him!"

The two little goblins scampered through the door. Jennie stepped fully into Aboveground, and the door vanished as it swung shut.

Sarah's eye was drawn to the obelisk. A barn owl sat atop it. Jennie followed her line of sight. She signed.

"Well, don't just sit there skulking," she scolded the owl.

The owl leapt off its perch and transformed into Jareth. He pointed at the two goblins and scowled. "Back to the Labyrinth," he ordered flatly. Skub cowered behind Sir Diddymus.

Jennie stood between the former king and his ex-subjects. "You abdicated, remember? They don't take orders from you any more. They're on their way to see to their new king's wishes."

"And I suppose you will also be escorting them at a leisurely stroll?"

"I could certainly stand to stretch my legs, considering how long I've been asleep," Jennie mentioned casually.

"You're taking a rather cavalier attitude to your health, especially considering you should be dead by now."

Jennie raised an eyebrow in warning. "What of it?"

Jareth's face twitched, and he glanced sideways at their audience. He cooled off almost instantly; it seemed he and Jennie preferred to keep their arguments private. "I have a car waiting," he indicated a direction, "and the hospital would appreciate it if we did not delay," he explained with cold civility.

Jennie rolled her eye. "Fine; I'll see you all later...uh, that is, provided the donor marrow takes," she shrugged even as Sarah paled at the thought.

Jareth guided Jennie away with an arm that seemed half-protective, half-commanding.


	14. The end

When Sarah next saw Jennie, it was a bit of déjà vu. She was back in the hospital bed, pale and weak. But there was a difference; Jennie was brighter now, her cancer evidently gone, and the doctors said she was making a full recovery. She was looking forward to a long, long life. Jareth stood over her watchfully as Sarah hugged her in greeting.

"What are you going to do now?" Sarah asked.

Jennie shrugged. "Go home, get back to work?"

"Absolutely not!" Jareth interjected.

"Jareth," Jennie began in a voice that was eerily calm, "I am an adult, and the only one who gets to decide what to do with my life."

"Don't you _dare _say I have no power over you. I most certainly do: you owe me you life, and by the magic we both possess, I claim that debt!"

"And what would you ask of me, as payment for my debt?" Jennie asked, eyes flaring dangerously.

"You are forbidden to set foot even within your home _state _for the next two years."

And inarticulate sound escaped Jennie's lips. The expression on her face was a peculiar mixture of shock and outrage. Then, her lip began to quiver. "You...you're...Why are you being so stupid," Jennie asked, rubbing her eye.

Jareth had his arms around her in an instant, consoling and stroking her hair in a fraternal gesture of comfort. Jennie wailed into his shoulder, and her words were muffled and unintelligible. Jareth said only, "You're welcome. And now you can take the world tour you've been planning since you were eight."

Jennie let out something halfway between a sob and a laugh.

Sarah made a hasty, diplomatic exit.

Jareth came out after a few more minutes, removing the damp jacket Jennie had been sobbing into. He froze when he saw Sarah smiling at him.

"I've never seen a swift kick in the rear done so sweetly before," she began.

Jareth smiled in a knowing way Sarah didn't think she'd seen since she was fifteen. "She's given me enough over the years, it's high time I returned the favour."

He turned back to glance at the door Jennie lay beyond, and Sarah took advantage of his diverted attention to sneak up on him. She pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for saving Jennie's life."

Jareth stood stiffly. "I didn't do it for you, Sarah," he told her honestly.

"I know. That's what makes it so great; you did it for her."

Jareth relaxed and wrapped his arms around Sarah, one going around her waist, while his other hand slipped into her hair. He pressed his mouth against the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her. He held her tightly and refused to release her.

"Uh, you can let go now," Sarah finally said awkwardly.

"Jennie is well now; I know you're going to go back to England and you're never going to return. I'm never going to see you again. If this is the last time I will ever hold you, I intend to hold you for as long as possible."

"And what if it isn't the last time?"

Jareth released his hold on Sarah just enough to look into her eyes. His eyes held questions he didn't dare ask.

Sarah answered anyway. "I've seen you as a lot of things over the years, an adversary, a king, a stalker, a tormentor," Jareth winced, but Sarah continued. "But the one thing I never saw you as, because you did a very good job of convincing me you _weren't __—_is human. Seeing you so concerned for someone besides yourself, and someone who you had a lot to gain from harming, even going to such great lengths to save her, was incredibly noble and completely, utterly human."

"It took me quite some time to remember how to be," he told her apologetically.

"Well, now I think you always were. And you know what, Jareth? Humans aren't perfect. We screw up. Sometimes, really, really badly. And the best thing our fellow human beings can do is accept that we're only human, and forgive our screw-ups."

Sarah could feel Jareth tremble a little.

"Do not toy with me, Sarah," he told her in quiet desperation.

"I am giving you a second chance. One." She held up a finger for emphasis. "And we can see exactly what we have, and where it takes us. BUT," she paused for extra emphasis. "if you so much as _think _of doing anything nasty to me or mine, I am gone. And this time, it _will_ be for good."

Jareth shakily brought Sarah's hand to his lips, kissing it all over. Tears glistened at the corner of his eyes. "I don't deserve it, but I will prove myself worthy of the gift you have offered me, Sarah, I swear it."

"Damn right you will!"

Overjoyed, Jareth pulled her into a passionate kiss. When she kissed him back, his tears spilled over. He kissed her frantically until they were rudely interrupted by Jennie shouting "aw, get a room you two!"

Sarah blushed furiously, but Jareth was giving her a wicked look. "Jennifer _was_ always full of the most wise and useful advice," he told her coyly.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but gestured to him to lead on. Jareth sprinted, practically carrying her out of the hospital, and was even faster at getting out then he had be at stripping them both during their last...encounter.

* * *

Jennie eagerly ran off to see the world once she was fully recovered. Mike came along for the first leg of her trip, and both Jareth and Sarah suspected he would take an extended leave of absence as soon as he convinced her to marry him.

Sarah, for her part, spent the next few months being treated like a queen. Broadway producers were falling over each other to get her on their playbills, offering her absolutely obscene amounts of money to lead in this or that show. She was so in-demand that she got a freelance agent to arrange the details, leaving her ample amounts of free time, nearly all of which Jareth took up.

They were the hottest item in New York, and the paparazzi followed them all over. Fortunately, New York is nowhere near as media-friendly as L.A., and there were plenty of places exclusive enough for them to get away from the media hounds. Traffic was so thick it was easy to lose any pursuers if they wanted to say...sneak off to Central Park for a picnic, and to enjoy the summer weather. Which is, coincidentally, what they had done.

They were having a wonderful time feasting on little delicacies that Jareth had somehow found the time to make (he really was a brilliant cook, and Sarah always knew when he had made something himself). Once they were done, they sipped on champagne. Jareth paused after a few sips, uncharacteristically hesitant. "Sarah, dearest, may I ask you something?" he began delicately.

Sarah was instantly suspicious and shot him a warning glance. "As long as you're not going to ruin a perfectly good picnic by proposing to me," she answered. Jareth had already broached the subject a few times, and Sarah had placed an outright ban on all talk of "the M-word" until further notice.

His face fell a little, but he persisted. "I know you aren't ready yet," he countered, placating her. "I only ask that you consider this, and then I will be forever silent on the matter;" he waited for her consent before continuing.

"Promise?" Sarah countered quickly.

"I swear it," Jareth answered in earnest.

Sarah sighed in a put-upon manner, but signaled he should continue.

"You know I have every intention of spending the rest of my life with you, Sarah. And, should you come to the same conclusion, you need only tell me. When I learn you are of that inclination, I shall marry you whenever, wherever and _however _you wish. Consider it an open proposal of sorts; one with no expiration date. Even if we should part company, you need only say the word, and it shall be done."

"What if I don't want any children?" she asked, probing.

He looked a little crestfallen at that. "I would be lying if I told you I didn't want to meet our children, Sarah, but having you is more than enough to make me happy."

"What if I wait until I'm eighty?" she said, a little more teasing this time.

Jareth smiled. "If marrying you were to be the last thing I ever do, I would die a happy man."

Now Sarah hesitated. "What if I chose to marry another?"

"I would be absolutely heartbroken. However, if I survived the ordeal long enough for you to learn the error of you ways," Sarah shot Jareth a slightly irritated look at this, "I would take you back in an instant."

"Provided you weren't serving time for murdering the poor man," Sarah mentioned somewhat irritably, remembering all too well Jareth's jealous streak. She'd seen plenty of evidence of it whenever he watched her acting out a romantic scene with a co-star.

"There's no need to resort to murder when there are so many countries with you not in them, and so many ways to get someone sent there," Jareth said, only half-joking. "I'm certain it wouldn't take much persuasion for such an upstart to see the many advantages of moving to Australia."

Sarah laughed at that and kissed Jareth. Even in his ridiculous jealousy, she loved him.

"Does that mean you'll accept?" he asked hopefully.

"With such broad terms, it's kind of hard not to," she admitted.

Elated, he kissed her. His kisses quickly became hot and encouraging, and when he broke off, he had the devilish gleam in his eye Sarah knew all too well. "Come, Sarah, if we hurry, we'll have enough time to get a citation for committing lewd acts in a public place!" he said as he hauled them both to their feet.

"Again?!" Sarah groaned, "The tabloids had a field day the last time we were in court!" but it was insincere, and she went towards the thick woods where he was leading her without resisting.

"Come, Sarah, 'any press is good press,' isn't that right?"

Sarah giggled like the school girl she had once been all those years ago, when she first laid eyes upon the Goblin King.

_FIN_

_**Author's note:**_

_OMG! I actually finished it! I'm not sure I've ever finished a story this long before!__ I hope you liked it. I know the ending is a little anticlimatic, but I had a hard time thinking of anything else. I may to a continuation of this story, or sorts. Depends on whether I can find the time, energy and inclination.**  
**_


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